

















).#* 


w« t^P“ <At tug f ^ 

:n 5 Sl&iZ.. K c ' # 3a&4* 


Vfc‘ 

•/S' 


/ 


/ 


.* 




CT <^V 


rr . wr **^r v ” ir>* ^ 

^Sg&HPN? ^trp 


Vr 






§* st 

* r 4 ? 



r; v 



» 'x. iSp* \k«^ ~4. * *»- 

**<•-- ^ «**' a* « JWVIg^V#/ * <%, 

-r&L&t? olsSe. -at* f ^ •*«“ 


„ 


v& 


:vs; 






•A" -r. 





TO'V^.# *• -*<U 



Wrv® ' Jfesfv 


A**fc&® ?»■ 


" A ** 

^, ^ry 

„ «P?Vj ^ 

? a , 





W< s 

- v V-<< 


fe J ^eCv 


.O V. 


^ > v 0 ^ \M > 5k # v && i^^p? h 


\>“ ^-3 

^ , •% 

V ‘Voir*- 



r **&%& , l -tc- r%* F *% 


*** V 


‘^L ^ 





FIRST STEPS 


IN 


atural Science. 


SUGGESTIONS TO KINDERGARTNERS 
AND PRIMARY TEACHERS. 



OCT 11 1892 


Li i X 


St. Louis: 

E. P. Studley & Co., Printers, 221 North Main Street. 
1892. 

























o 






QH-^3 







PREFACE. 


The aim of this little book is to give a few sug¬ 
gestions as to the method of presenting nature to 
the little child. 

The logical sequence so strongly insisted upon 
in the presentation of kindergarten gifts and occu¬ 
pations should be observed in the study of nature, 
and the connection between the different depart¬ 
ments of life and the mineral world should be care¬ 
fully preserved. 

The lessons suggested in these pages are based 
on this principle, and have grown out of my experi¬ 
ence with the little ones in the kindergarten and 
primary classes, hence may be considered the work 
of the children themselves. In all my intercourse 
with them, I have tried to follow the leadings of 
the childish mind, and to furnish only as much 
food for thought as could be easily digested. The 
work given here has been evolved partly in the 



- IV 


kindergarten, and partly among children eight and 
nine years of age. 

Each director or teacher can determine what, 
and how much, to cull for her own little ones, while 
others having children under their care may find 
some useful hints for entertaining; and instructing’ 
the troublesome little ones who are always asking 
questions. 

As delightful books of reference I would rec¬ 
ommend “Eiguier’s Insect World” and “Ocean 
World,” and also, “A Mouthful of Bread,” by 
Jean Mace. 


“The works of God are fair for naught, 
Unless our eyes in seeing 

See hidden in the thing the thought, 
Which animates its being. 

The shadow pictured in the lake 
By every tree that trembles, 

Is cast for more than just the sake 
Of that which it resembles. 

The stars are lighted in the sky 
Not merely for their shining; 

But like the light of loving eyes, 

Have meanings worth divining. 

The clouds around the mountain peak, 
The rivers in their winding, 

Have secrets which to all who seek, 

Are precious in the finding. 

Whoever at the coarsest sound 
Still listens for the finest, 

Shall hear the noisy world go round, 

To music the divinest. 

Whoever yearns to see aright 
Because his heart is tender, 

Shall catch a glimpse of heavenly light, 
In every earthly splendor. 

So since the universe began, 

And till it shall be ended, 

The soul of nature, soul of man, 

And soul of God are blended.” 


From “A Sabbath in the Field.” 


TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


Introduction.i to iv 

PART FIRST. 

Mineralogy. 1 

Chapter I—Origin of Rock Material.. 1 

Sea Urchin, Sand-dollar, Star Fish. 3-9 

Coral, Crinoids. 9-13 

Clams and Oysters, Shell Conglomerate . 13-14 

Molluscan Limestone. 14-15 

Chapter II—Crystalline Rocks. 16 

Experiments in the Manufacture of Crystals. 16-17 

Marble . 17-18 

Quartz. i 9 -24 

Iron. 24-27 

Chapter III.—Carbonaceous Rock Material. 27-29 

Bituminous, Cannel, and Anthracite Coal .. . 29-33 

Chapter IV.—Fragmental Rocks. 33-35 

Transportation of Pebbles, etc. 36-41 

PART SECOND. 

Lessons in Plant Life. 41 

Spring Aspect . 41 

Chapter I.—Growth from the Seed. 41-50 

Chapter II.—A Study of Leaves and Roots 51 

Wheat, Oats and Grass. 51-53 

Leaf Forms and Venation . 53_54 

Transpiration and Circulation. 54_55 

Chapter III.—Study of Twigs.’ ’ 56-59 

Outlines of Lessons: 

Lilac, Syringa and Maple . 59_62 

Linden, Cottonwood, Willow, Oak. 62-65 

A Talk About Trees. 65-71 



























CONTENTS— Continued. 


Chapter IV.—Growth from Bulbs, etc. 71 

Carrot, Parsnip, Beet.. 72-73 

Bulbs .. . 73 

Tubers and Perennial Roots. 74 

Chapter V.—Fall Aspect of Plants. 75-77 

Leaf Buds. 78-79 

J uicy Fruits. 79-81 

Dry Fruits . 81-84 

PART THIRD. 

Insects. 86 

Chapter I.—Introduction. 86-88 

Oak Galls. 88-89 

Willow Galls. 89-90 

Red Maple Galls . .. 91-92 

Chapter II.—General Characteristics of Lepi- 

doptera. 93 

Saturnia Moth. 94-96 

Chrysalides. 96-98 

Pireris Brassicm. 98-101 

S uggestions. 101-103 

Chapter III.—Introduction. 104-406 

Ants and Aphides.106-111 

Conclusion.—The Human Body; and Suggestions 
for showing its relation to the Mineral, and 
the Vegetable Kingdom. 112 

STORIES FOR CHILDREN. 

Story of the Frost Giants . . 118 

Tales of the Formica. . 126 

Quercus Alba. 135 

Story of Seven Little Peas. 142 

The First Thanksgiving. 147 


The Illustrations are from “The Insect World” and 
“The Ocean World.” 













































- 

































PART FIRST. 


MINERALOGY. 


CHAPTER I. 

ORIGIN OF ROCK MATERIAL, ILLUSTRATED BY A FEW 
MEMBERS OF THE FAMILIES OF RADIATES 
AND MOLLUSKS. 


N OT even animal life has more charms for the 
little child than the various stones and min¬ 
erals of a fair cabinet. Probably the sim¬ 
plicity of their structure — their comparative un¬ 
changeability and immovability, so different from 
himself, coupled with the fact that many of them 
are but the relics of former animals, appeal to his 
senses and imagination at the same time. 

To be sure, one little fellow once assured me 
that stones must grow , for, if they did not, how 
could one account for the large bowlders and cob¬ 
blestones scattered over the prairie. Surely they 
were pebbles which had grown into larger stones. 
After all, can we say that the theory of growth 
in the mineral world has no foundation in fact? 





— 2 — 


According to some French scientists the formation 
of crystals is only one method of reproduction 
from a parent germ and many simple experiments 
tend to prove this. 

It is sufficient for our purpose, however, to 
show the relation existing between animate and 
inanimate nature as illustrated in the building up 
of the rocky crust of the earth ; to show also how 
a great proportion of it is composed of organic 
material. 

To do this, it is best to begin with some form 
of life whose frame is largely composed of rock 
material, and from this proceed to the senseless 
stone. 

When you have completed the circle, man, and 
the world with its strong breast covered with 
vegetation, will all be linked together in an endless 
chain. Life will own kinship with death; the 
bounding heart, its dependence upon inert stone; 
the child will learn his relation not only to his 
fellow beings, but to the earth itself; and, if the 
spirit of inquiry be accompanied by that of rever¬ 
ence, the majesty and glory of the Creator will 
be softened to human vision by the love of the 
Creator for the creature. 

As you turn over the leaves of this wonderful 
book of creation written like the commandments 
of old on tablets of stone, and explain its pictures 
to the little ones who are, perhaps, receiving from 
you their first impressions of the wonders of na- 



Sea Urchins lodged in the rocks they have excavated 















































































































— 4 — 


living could move them slightly by means of 
muscular action, each spine having it own particu¬ 
lar muscle. 

Now what can be the use of these spines? One 
child thinks they are a means of defense, a coat of 
armor like that of the hedgehog whose picture he 
has seen in one of his nursery books, and I agree 
with him, for what voracious creature of the sea 
would try to swallow so spiny a morsel. Even I 
cannot take him up from his waterj^ cradle, with¬ 
out gloves. Sometimes the urchin travels a short 
distance over dry sand and then he uses his spines 
as feet, or more properly, as crutches. 

To find out his usual method of walking we 
might put one in an aquarium and watch him climb 
the glass sides. Over and over he goes like a 
wheel, using his spines for support but clinging to 
the glass by means of tiny, thread-like arms or legs, 
(called prendopodia or ambulacra,) terminating in 
little disks or suckers. He pushes these out of 
tiny openings in the shell, first one row and then 
another, drawing back the first as he pushes out 
the others. Here is a bare shell in which you can 
see all the tiny holes, finer than a cambric needle. 
What a vast number there are, more than any of 
you little people can count. 

One child wants to know what the little project¬ 
ing points on the shell are for; so we take off one 
or two of the spines on the first specimen and 
examine closely. We find it is hollow at the point 


— 5 — 


of attachment and fits over one of the projections 
so the conclusion is that all these points are where* 
the spines were attached. 

Suddenly one little fellow notices that the 
urchin with the spines has no opening underneath, 
whereas the other is like a hollow box into which 
he can thrust his fingers. Upon closer investiga¬ 
tion he finds that the opening in the first is filled 
with live pointed teeth which meet in the center 
and project from the shell. Then I lead them to 
see resemblances between these and the teeth of 
other annimals. They are stronger, however, than 
the gnawing teeth of the squirrel and rat, for in 
some species they have power to excavate holes in 
the rock itself. Those which have very fine spines 
and thin shell bury themselves under the sand, 
leaving only a small hole to breathe through. They 
first fix themselves firmly to the rock by their 
suckers, then chip the stone with their strong teeth 
removing the fragments with their spines as fast as 
they cut them off. Soon they have dug out a snug 
little nest in the rock and with their spines brist¬ 
ling like spears, bid defiance to all their enemies. 

Did some one ask what the urchin has for his 
dinner? Well, that we have not yet found out 
exactly, but we think some of them live upon tiny 
shell fish, and others upon sea-weed. 

Perhaps we have talked enough about the 
urchin for to-day but to-morrow we shall discover 
something more about him. 


— 6 — 


LESSON II. 

hirst we review the previous lesson enough to 
fix the impressions then made. Give the children 
the bare shell, and let them handle it and examine 
it carefully with and without a magnifying glass. 
They will observe the small five-pointed star on top 
and thus gain their first impressions of the great 
family of Radiates. The regular order in which 
the tiny holes and projections are arranged, will 
appeal to their love of symmetry and proportion, 
and illustrate the order and beauty of nature. 

One child may discover that this stony box is 
composed of numerous plates joined together with 
greater nicety than can be done by any tools of 
man, in the hands of the most expert joiner. In 
such a case tell him the sea urchin’s manner of 
growth; at first the box is no larger than a pea, 
but as the little animal grows, “More room, more 
room !” he cries, and yet he cannot cast off his 
shell. God, in His wisdom, however, has provided 
for this. As the box is made of separate plates, 
new ones grow between the old ones, until when 
grown, the urchin has a shell of at least six-hundred 
pieces, the whole still preserving the original form 
and arrangement of parts. Not more wonderful is 
the growth of the child from babyhood to manhood. 

Close this lesson by comparing its subject with 
the child. 

After this lesson with the modern sea urchin, 




take up the fossil, if it is attainable, and compare 
with the former. The child soon learns to tell the 
difference between the remains of modern life and 
the fossils of geological periods. 

The sea-beaver—if you have one—will intro¬ 
duce another type of Radiates. It is of nearly the 
same form as the sea urchin, but with two openings 
on the under side and with such short, dark brown 
spines that it looks as if covered with thick soft 
fur; hence its name. The star on the top is very 
large and deeply cut. The holes through which 
the suckers (ambulacra) are projected, resemble 
fine fringe, occuring as they do along the edges of 
the star rays. 


LESSON III. 

Take the flattened Echinoid commonly called 
the sand-dollar. It might be called the connect¬ 
ing link between the Radiates already studied, 
and the star fish. 

A clay model of the sea urchin may be flattened 
out to represent the new form. The mouth is in 
the same position as that of the former but the 
holes for the suckers are like those of the sea-beaver 
as are also the spines. Few of the specimens have 
the spines wholly preserved, but enough can be 
seen to determine their nature. 



— 8 — 


LESSON IV. 

After the sand-dollar, the star fish comes in for 
study. To introduce the subject, cut the skin of 
an orange into five points, and open out flat. This 
gives the child an idea of the derivation of the star 
from the sphere. Let him trace out every resem¬ 
blance to other Radiates before noticing new feat¬ 
ures. Test a bit of broken ray in dilute acid. The 
calcareous substance bubbles away in gas leaving a 
limey sediment, while the animal part floats on top 
as a greenish gelatinous body. Thus we perceive 
that the mineral part of the star fish is the same as 
the sea urchin’s shell, though not so abundant. 
Test a piece of bone and an egg shell in the same 
way and let the child draw his own conclusions. 

Return to star fish, observe the suckers which 
are short and very numerous, lining each ray. 
The mouth is in the centre and from that branches 
a little canal in each ray. Let the child give his 
idea of the use of the suckers, then add that the}^ 
are not only for use in walking, but also serve to 
seize food and pass it along to the stomach in the 
centre. The motive power is the same as in the 
other Radiates. Mention the kind of food they eat 
and the trouble they cause in an oyster bed. To 
illustrate their power of suction when attempts are 
made to seize them, use the leather sucker previ¬ 
ously mentioned. 

Select some specimens with immature arms 


2 



1. Red Coral Prolyp, retracted. 

2. Red Coral Prolyp, exserted. 
























































— 9 — 


showing how last ones are replaced. 

One kind called the brittle star fish, will allow 
its rays to be broken off rather than be taken by 
an enemy, so it is difficult to obtain a perfect one. 
They must be taken unawares. 


LESSON V. 

The most interesting branch of the great family 
of Radiates is the Coral, owing to its resemblance 
to plant life in manner of growth and variety of 
color. 

Jts true nature was discovered by a French 
savant named Peyssonnel, in 1725. At that time 
the most learned people of the world believed the 
coral to be a plant and supposed it hardened upon 
exposure to‘the air, and in spite, of the strongest 
proofs to the contrary clung to their preconceived 
notions in regard to it. 

Peyssonnel was ridiculed because he believed 
the evidence of his senses and tried to make others 
open their eyes and see for themselves. They con¬ 
sidered it beneath the dignity of men of learning, 
to watch these delicate little animals in an acquar- 
ium as they unfolded them numerous petal-like 
arms to size upon their food. 

This food is the debris of the ocean, hence their 
mission, according to Buchland, is to purify the 
water and add to the land. 



— 10 — 


Let us think for a moment how the latter part 
of their mission is performed. We will begin with 
the coral island with its girdle of feathery palms 
surrounding a still lake or lagoon of blue sea-water. 

First a few coral polyps fasten themselves to 
the top of a volcanic rock 80 feet or more under 
water, and begin to put out buds which grow into 
branches and these also bud and branch until there 
is a regular forest of coral; a vast multitude of 
little animals which show no life except in opening 
and shutting their fingers when hungry. Some of 
the vast community were more active in the early 
part of their existence. Instead of growing like a 
bud on the mama stem, they were hatched from 
eggs no larger than the tiniest seeds. These baby 
polyps are round and soft and swim about freely 
having a little fringe of fine hairs which serve as 
paddles. They are very lively indeed for a while 
but at last get tired of frolicking and settle down 
as regular stay-at-homes, sometimes joining the 
mother colony, but often choosing to establish a 
new one for themselves. Now and then one polyp 
will grow larger than the others and finally become 
two individuals instead of one. So you see there 
are three ways in which corals increase in numbers 
and they have to grow very fast indeed to make 
the foundation rock of the island. All the coral 
cities are not fashioned alike, some grow into a 
great cup, others like a dome on the top of an 
Esquimaux hut. Here is a large specimen which 


—11 — 


resembles a toadstool. It is not a company of 
corals or polypidom, but the work of one animal, 
hence we see all the polyps are not as tiny as those 
of the tree coral. 

Another kind is of the same shape and size as 
the yellowish white fungus growing on trunks of 
trees, and looks something like the fungus coral; 
it is formed of the remains of hundreds of tiny 
polyps instead of one large one. 

Now all these different polypidoms multiplied 
again and again, produce a great mass that finally 
comes to the surface of the water when the re¬ 
maining polyps die and the foundation of the 
island is finished. 

What is the next step in island building? 
Earth must be laid upon the coral rock to furnish 
material for plant life. 

Where will it come from, you ask? Did you 
ever notice, when gathering flowers in the woods, 
what formed most of the top soil? Gardeners call 
it leaf mould, and use it when they need very rich 
food for their potted plants. It is made of dead 
leaves, you see, and all the dainty wild-wood 
flowers luxuriate in it. Now before our island can 
produce abundant vegetation it must get some 
such soil. As yet, however, there is nothing but 
rock, though the waves dash over it in storm*, 
breaking off small pieces and grinding them into 
fine particles which they drop on the foundation, 
as they recede. The winds also take a hand, and 


— 12 — 


carry from the main land dust and fine sand ; and 
small seeds are transported in this w y. Birds, 
too, do their share of this part of the work, and at 
last a tinge of green is seen upon the island, form¬ 
ing a pretty fringe on the coast and edge of the 
still blue lake, or lagoon, in the centre. 

As the few plants drop their leaves on the 
damp ground which rapidly changes them into leaf 
mould, vegetation increases, and at last there is 
enough soil to feed and support the cocoa palm, 
and other tropical plants (for we must remember 
that most of these islands are in the torrid zone). 

Now man comes, and pronounces it good. A 
village springs up, ships find their way hither, and 
take away cargoes of cocoanuts, dates, etc., and 
even sprigs of variously colored corals, broken off 
by divers, from projecting ledges under the water. 

One such piece may be among those we have 
been examining, but lie who brought it from the 
island little knew what an interesting story it 
would tell us. 

It is a pity that we have not a live branch of 
the coral so that you could see the little animals 
open and shut their fingers in search of food, but 
here is a picture showing you many of them. 


Follow the preceding lesson with one on fossil 
coral, such as the honeycomb coral of the Niagara 
period or any other kind that is in the cabinet. 






Pentacrinus Europaeus. 














— 13 — 


LESSON VI. 

Among the flower-like animals of the sea whose 
remains contribute so largely to rock buildings, 
are the crinoids or stone lilies. Perfect specimens 
are not common but it is not difficult to obtain 
crinoidal limestone containing stems of various 
sizes, showing plainly their division in rings. 

Give the child as perfect a fossil as can be 
procured, and with the aid of a good picture he 
will readily assign it to the great family of 
Radiates, and see its resemblance to the lily in its 
form and position on the stem. Use a magnifying 
glass so that the division of the rays into little 
plates can be seen, another point of resemblance to 
the sea-urchin. In some places, as at Niagara 
Falls, the rings forming the stems, are often found 
loose so that they can be strung like beads; hence 
the name Indian beads. 

After a thorough study of the crinoid itself, 
take up crinoidal limestone, showing various pro¬ 
portions and sizes of stems. 


LESSON VII. 

Study the clam or the oyster. Have valves par¬ 
tially opened before beginning the lesson so the chil¬ 
dren can get some idea of the strength of the muscle 
used in opening or closing the valves. Hitherto 



— 14 — 


we have studied marine animals whose skin is out¬ 
side of the bony structure, now' we take up a class 
properly styled shell fish; namely, the Mollusks, 
who carry their bones on the outside. Draw atten¬ 
tion to the mantle, and the laminae or gills between 
whose folds is the mouth. Do not overlook the 
cillia or fine hairs that serve to create a current in 
the water and thus furnish a supply of fresh air, and 
also keep out foreign particles. These cillia thus 
serve the same purpose as the fine hairs lining the 
mucous membrane of our bronchial tubes. Close 
observation will also reveal the heart and stomach. 


LESSON VIII. 

Study the shell conglomerate so common in 
Florida, which is simply a mass of broken shells 
stuck together by a natural cement of lime, clay 
and water. Let the children make some of this 
conglomerate from broken refuse shells. 


LESSON IX. 

Molluscan limestone is the next step in the 
descending scale from animal life to inert stone. 
Fossils of clams, oysters and various brachiopods, 
(such as spirifers, etc.) are quite abundant in some 
sections and should be found in every cabinet. 




— 15 — 


LESSON X. 

Ordinary gray and yellow limestone compared 
with fossil limestone. The test with dilute hydro¬ 
chloric acid shows its composition to be the same 
as the shells of all the preceding lessons and is one 
evidence of the common origin. Bring out the 
uses and abundance of limestone; draw attention 
to the wear and tear by the elements; viz., the 
effects of heat and moisture as shown by its chip¬ 
ping off and cracking when exposed to the weather. 
Test its hardness with pin or knife-blade and 
compare in this respect with the kindergarten 
blocks. 


In all these lessons connect with the occupa¬ 
tions of the kindergarten, modelling the urchin, 
sand-dollar, star fish and mollusks in clay. It is 
hardly necessary to suggest making the urchin’s 
nest in the sand. A number of the clay models 
might be placed in the nests. 



CHAPTER II. 


CRYSTALLINE ROCKS. 


LESSONS I AND II. 

B EFORE beginning the study of these rocks, 
it is well to have a few experiments in 
making crystals. Suspend strings in strong 
solutions of alum, and sugar: the crystals will form 
on the strings and the slower the cooling process, 
the larger the crystals. Sulphur can be melted in 
a cup on the back of the stove; after cooling 
break apart and pour out the remaining liquid ; 
small crystals will be found lining the inside of the 
hollow sphere: the wdiole forming a minature 
geode. A solution of copper sulphate (blue vitriol) 
will give beautiful blue crystals; red prussiate of 
potash, bright red ones—all these illustrations 
conveying some idea of the variety of form and 
color matter assumes when passing from a liquid to 
a solid. Remember, however, that a crystal can 
be perfect only when conditions are favorable, 
time and space being required for its development! 

To show that many crystals are derived from 
the same form, shape a clay ball into a cube, the 




— 17 — 


form of crystals of salt, sugar, etc. ; one face is 
the tabular crystal of phosphate of lime or apatite, 
(the form of lime existing in bones.) Press the 
cube so as to form a double pyramid and you have 
the form of the alum crystal; change the cube, by 
pressure, into an oblique rhombic prism and each 
face represents a costal of cal cite, calc spar, and 
marble. A hexagonal prism with triangular faces 
at the ends is the form of a quartz crystal. 


LESSON III. 

In making crystals from solution the children 
find that both heat and water are essential. Now 
let them discover that crystals can be destroyed by 
excessive heat, the latter driving off the water of 
crystallization. 

Burn sugar, alum, salt, etc., on hot metal. 
Expose to the air, sal-soda or some other salt that 
effloresces readily, and the next day the outside is 
covered by a dry powder owing to evaporation. 


LESSON IV. 

Compare limestone and w T hite marble. Apply 
dilute acid first so as to determine the similarity 
of composition. Notice the difference in structure ; 
one is crystalline, the other is not, and yet they 




— 18 — 


are similar in composition. In the previous 
lessons on crystals the children have had some 
hints as to the causes of metamosphism. Plainly 
heat and water have exerted their influence, but 
the pressure of great masses of overlying rocks 
was also necessary to produce this result. The 
child, himself can destroy the crystalline structure 
by heating the marble in the fire, thus reducing it 
to lime, and he can break it up into lime and 
carbon-dioxide by dropping it into dilute acid, but 
no force he can bring to bear will change the dull 
limestone into sparkling marble. Only Nature 
herself can wield such mighty force and ages of 
time must pass before the work is complete. 

Bring out specimens of different colored mar¬ 
bles and inquire into their various uses. Have one 
piece that is coarse enough to show the form of 
crystal and the cleavage in three directions. 
Bring out the artistic as well as the practical uses 
to which marble is applied. Fortunate the child 
who is permitted to gaze upon some grand and 
beautiful specimen of the sculptor’s art, which will 
fill his mind with beautiful thoughts and stir his 
heart with holy aspirations. 


LESSON V. 

The study of marble should be followed by a 
general review of preceding lessons, allowing the 



— 19 — 


children to test and classify specimens of calcare¬ 
ous rocks not seen before. I often give each one 
a little box of fragments of different kinds of lime¬ 
stone and marble and allow him to determine the 
hardness by scratching each specimen with a pin, 
and test its composition by dropping a tiny piece 
in dilute acid. Each one should be able to point 
out the different kinds of fossiliferous limestone, 
viz., the coral, crinoidal and mollusean limestones, 
and tell the principal truths mentioned before, 
concerning the different forms of marine life. 


INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF QUARTZ. 


So far we have studied only calcareous rock 
material and traced its origin step by step from 
animal life. Now we shall begin the study of 
another material which forms nearly one-half the 
crust of the earth, namely, quartz or silica. 

Calcareous rocks and coal are essentially 
organic in their composition and represent the 
endless succession of life and death in the story of 
creation, but silica is more nearly allied to the 
purely mineral department of nature. There are, 
however, masses of siliceous rock which may prop¬ 
erly be called of organic origin; namely, chert or 
hornstone, a species of flint found in rounded 
masses called nodules. These are the remains of 
innumerable minute animals and vegetables whose 




— 20 — 


tissues were strengthened with silica instead of 
carbonate of lime. A handful of infusorial earth 
may contain hundreds of these delicate lace-like 
skeletons. Accumulating in cavities of limestone 
rock they finally become compact balls of flint, 
and upon the breaking or crumbling of the lime¬ 
stone, these balls fall out, and are splintered into 
fragments. 

On the Boston hills of Arkansas, where the 
village of Eureka Springs is located, the road beds, 
hillsides, etc., are covered with flints. As this 
mineral splinters so easily, the fragments are sharp 
instead of rounded as in ordinary pebbles, and are 
sure destruction to shoe leather. 

Even the farms, or garden patches on the hill¬ 
sides are covered with these fragments, but vege¬ 
tation seems to thrive and when rain is plenty, fine 
berries and vegetables are abundant. Evidently 
there is some fine soil scattered among the bits of 
flints but it is not visible on the surface. Where 
the streets are cut through the hills, the walls of 
earth are seen studded as thickly with the nodules, 
as a pudding is full of plums. Many are highly 
colored with red and yellow iron oxides, and after 
a shower are brilliant in the sunshine. Undoubt¬ 
edly most of the flint fragments have been depos¬ 
ited over the country by glaciers and floods from 
melting snow and ice, for there are many other 
traces of such action in this locality. If the 
theory of the origin of flint is correct, what a mul- 


— 21 - 

titude of beings contributed to this immense 
accumulation. 

Quartz occurs in many other forms beside the 
one just mentioned, and in combination with 
different minerals forms granite, gneiss, mica 
shist, sandstone, etc, 

If the children belong to the connecting class 
or primary and have studied the origin and forms 
of limestone, they are ready to be introduced to 
this new mineral. Its various crystalline forms 
are, rock crystal, quartzite, amethyst, agate, car- 
nelian, onyx, smoky topaz, sand and sandstone. 
When massive it occurs as flint and jasper. 


LESSON VI. 

Compare calcite or coarse marble with rock— 
cn’stal. There are a few points of resemblance 
but the quartz is much harder, has hexagonal, in¬ 
stead of rhombic or rhomboidal crystals and no 
cleavage. Bring out the distinction between hard- 

o o 

ness and brittleness. 

Notice that quartz will strike fire with steel. 
Test in dilute acid and in flame. 


LESSON VII. 


Compare rock-crystal with amethyst. The only 
differences are in the length of the crystals and the 




— 22 — 


color ; rock-crystal being colorless, while amethyst 
is purple. The latter is colored by black oxide of 
manganese as is easily shown by throwing a little 
of the oxide on a coal fire; the flame is almost im¬ 
mediately tinged with the brilliant purple of the 
amethyst. The color of smoky topaz is supposed 
to be due to the same oxide in different proportion. 


LESSON VIII. 

Compare rock-crystal with white sand, using 
magnifying glass to distinguish the grains of sand. 
Scratch glass with both, and test the sand with 
acid and fire. If the children do not determine 
for themselves, that the sand is composed of bits 
of quartz, draw attention to the fact. Compare 
with the common yellow and reddish sand; exam¬ 
ine a little soil under the glass and find the tiny 
bits of quartz mixed with the humus or black earth. 
Inquire into uses of sand. 


LESSON IX. 

Compare sand with sandstone. 


LESSON X. 

Compare agate, carnelian and onyx. 

If possible, use an agate with the tiny crystals 
of quartz at the center. 





— 23 — 


LESSON XI. 

Compare agate with chalcedony. The first is 
composed of concentric rings or bands of different 
colors; the second has the colors arranged in ir¬ 
regular masses. 


LESSON XII. 

Compare rock-crystal or other form of quartz 
crystals with flint. They will both make a deep 
scratch in glass and strike fire with steel, though 
flint will give more brilliant sparks ; both are brit¬ 
tle but the last mentioned has a splintery fracture 
which makes it available for arrow heads, etc. Tell 
the children some story of primitive man during 
the stone age, or of some savage people of the 
present time. Mention the use of flint before the 
invention of matches. 


LESSON XIII. 

Compare flint with jasper. The points of 
difference are as follows: The first is usually dull 
in color and lustre, and has sharp edges; the 
second has generally very bright colors, ranging 
from } 7 ellow to red, green and black, the whole 
more or less polished. 




— 24 — 


IRON ORES. 

As most of the colors in minerals are due to 
the presence of some ore of iron, a few lessons 
concerning this mineral can be used to advantage 
with children in primary classes. 

The different ores are as follows: 

Hematite. Distinguished by its liver-red col¬ 
or, red mark, and red powder. 

Limonite, by its yellowish brown color, mark 
and powder. 

Siderite, (Carbonate of iron), by its grayish 
brown color, mark and powder. 

Magnetite, b}' its black cubical crystals, black 
mark and powder, and its being attracted by a 
magnet. 


LESSON XIV. 

Hematite. To determine the characteristics 
mentioned above, have piece of rock of same color 
to compare with it. If the rock is soft enough, 
scrape off some to tell color of powder and mark 
on paper. Test hematite in dilute acid. 


LESSON XV. 

Compare hematite with limonite, and test the 
latter as in the case of the former. The difference 
between these two ores is only that of a little 




— 25 — 


water. Direct a flame upon any limestone or clay 
containing limonite and the brownish yellow color 
changes to the red of hematite by the evaporation 
of the water. Red and yellow ocher are but im¬ 
pure forms of these two ores, there being an excess 
of clay in the ocher. Bring out the uses of the 
latter. Make a little red and yellow paint, by 
mixing a little ocher powder with oil of turpentine, 
and let the children use it. 

Describe the process of brick making, and ask 
them why the yellowish unbaked bricks should 
turn red after baking? Why the pressed Milwau¬ 
kee brick is not red? 


LESSON XVI. 

Magnetite. Color, crystals, powder, etc., 
compared with the other ores. Test minute pieces 
with a magnet, and if you are so fortunate as to 
have some black quartz sand, the removal of the 
grains of iron by means of the magnet, will furnish 
a great deal of amusement as well as instruction to 
the little ones. When the iron is removed, the 
grains of white sand are all that remains. 


LESSON XVII. 

IKON PYRITES (SULPHATE OP IRON). 

Use first a specimen containing some perfect 
crystals, so as to show their cubical form. See 




if it will make a deep scratch on glass and will 
strike fire with a steel. By this time the children 
ought to recognize the fact that only very hard 
minerals will strike fire. Notice the brassy yellow 
color and metallic lustre; also lack of cleavage. 

In the experiments with alum, sugar, salt, etc., 
the children have noticed that when crystals are 
massed together, many of them are flattened, hence 
they can easily account for the fact that so many 
of the crystals of pyrites and other minerals are 
pressed out of shape. 

To show the abundance of this ore of iron in 
rocks, have several pieces of limestone, shale, coal, 
etc., containing pyrites scattered through them. 
Compare with gold ore if you can get a piece of 
gold-bearing rock; they are similar in color, but 
the pyrites is much harder and when burned on a 
hot shovel or struck with the steel, gives out a 
strong odor of sulphur. Gold, when put in the 
strongest acid is not affected, while the iron is dis¬ 
solved in a few hours. 

Note.—C opper pyrites is of darker color, and so soft 
as not to strke fire. The presence of sulphur is detected 
in the same manner as with iron pyrites. 


CHAPTER III. 


CARBONACEOUS ROCK MATERIAL. 


T THE conditions necessary to the formation of 
the coal beds, are as follows: elevations 
and submergences; marshy or fresh water 
areas over a large part of the continents ; luxurient 
vegetation. 

According to accepted theories, the land, dur¬ 
ing the age of coal plants, was comparatively flat, 
but the surface above the water varied in extent, 
owing to the disturbances in the earth’s crust from 
the presence of the imprisoned gases; hence we 
find the coal arranged in layers alternating with 
sandstone, shale, conglomerate, etc. The air was 
heavily charged with moisture and carbonic acid 
sras, and the heat from the interior of the earth 
passing through the comparatively thin crust was 
added to that received from the sun; therefore 
vegetation was very rank and of rapid growth. 
Fallen leaves, decaying trunks and branches of 
trees were partially preserved in the waters of the 
marsh, forming a carbonaceous mass like modern 
peat, containing, in the lower layers, remains of 
fresh water shell fish, etc. The plants which 




— 28 — 


formed the dense jungles of this age were of simi¬ 
lar nature to those of the present day growing in 
warm moist places, but on account of the supera¬ 
bundance of plant food in the air, the low ferns, 
horse-tails and ground pine of the present time 
grew to the height of ordinary trees. Heavy clouds 
obscured the sunlight much of the time so that the 
forests were dim at noonday. No brilliant flowers 
nor gorgeous butterflies gave color to the scene; 
no birds filled the dim aisles with music; though a 
few insects fluttered in the air and spiders spun 
their silken traps for the unwary ones. The queer 
pterodaetyl with bat-like wings and long bill lined 
with teeth flitted about in the dusk or perched on 
the tops of the tree ferns. Huge reptiles and 
amphibians waded in shallow bays leaving theii; 
footprints on the mud flats, or plunged beneath 
the waters of the swamp, their discordant voices 
“making night hideous.” Strange as this ideal 
landscape may seem to us, it is pictured according 
to the revelations of the rocks of the coal measures. 

The various kinds of carbonaceous material can 
be classified as follows: peat and muck, brown 
coal or lignite, bituminous, and anthracite coal. 
Cannel coal is a variety of bituminous coal; occurs 
in thin layers, is easily splintered and will light in 
a candle flame. 

As peat is a modern formation, being simply a 
bog moss which dies at the root as fast as it grows 
at the top, we shall take it for our first lesson. 


— 29 — 


Compare it with ordinary turf and the spagnum or 
bog moss used for wrapping up the roots of plants 
transported to a distance. Bits of woody fibre can 
be seen in the peat when examined under a glass, 
resembling the fibre of turf and moss. Burn the 
peat and the smell of the smoke is that of burning 
brush and weeds; another proof of its vegetable 
origin. 

Speak of the use of peat for fuel in Ireland and 
other countries where other fuel is scarce or costs 
more than the poor peasant can afford. Picture 
an Irish hut where the smouldering fire is kept up 
by blocks of peat cut in the neighboring bogs and 
brought home in sacks or baskets by the children 
of the family. 

Note.— In some parts of France, the refuse of the 
wine vats, (stems and skins of grapes, etc.), are sub¬ 
jected to great pressure when wet, and the result is a 
sort of coarse peat which is cut in blocks and, when dry, 
is used for fuel. 

Muck is a valuable fertilizer, and consists chiefly of 
fallen leaves, twigs, etc., decaying in shallow pools of 
fresh water, the whole forming a mass of black mud. 


LESSON II. 

BITUMINOUS COAL. 

Compare with peat, observe that it breaks easily 
into slabs, is comparatively soft and burns with 
much flame; that the iron pyrites, when present, 
gives an odor of sulphur to a coal fire, and when 



— 30 — 


there is much of this form of iron mixed with the 
coal, it snaps and crackles with explosive force. 
Compare with charcoal, the latter being artificial 
coal. Char a stick of wood and explain the manu¬ 
facture of charcoal and connect with “the charcoal 
burner.” 


LESSON III. 

Compare cannel coal with ordinary soft coal. 
Light a thin splinter in candle flame. In this con¬ 
nection you may explain the manufacture of illu¬ 
minating gas, and illustrate as follows: fill the 
bowl of a long-stemmed clay pipe with powdered 
cannel coal, and close with a tightly fitting coin or 
other piece of metal; suspend over alcohol lamp 
so that the bowl is in the flame and the stem points 
downward; gas soon passes off and can be lighted 
at the stem end. When all the gas is burned re¬ 
move the metal cap and examine the coke left in 
the bowl. 


LESSON IV. 

Describe a descent into a coal mine using pict¬ 
ures and diagrams to illustrate: go with the miners 
and watch them cut out the coal, load it on trucks 
which are drawn by horses or pushed by men and 
boys to the mouth of the shaft, where it is deposited 
on a platform, drawn up to the surface of the earth 
and finally shipped to all parts of the country. 




— 31 — 


If time permits, tell some story to illustrate the 
life of a boy toiler in the mines; of one who has 
courage, perseverance, industry and presence of 
mind in time of danger; show that a heroic soul 
may inhabit a body begrimed with soot, and that a 
rough manner may hide a warm heart. 


LESSON V. 

Let us compare bituminous and anthracite coal. 

Though similar in color and in uses, they differ 
in some respects ; the latter being much harder and 
having a bright lustre. The former blacks the 
hands, the latter does not; one burns with abun¬ 
dant yellow flame, the other when first kindled 
gives out flickering blue flames, but when really on 
fire burns with the steady glow of red coals. 

Though the lumps of bituminous coal split easily 
when heated, the burning pieces of anthracite pres¬ 
ent the appearance of a book with many fine leaves. 
To show this have a piece of coal white at one end 
and unburnt at the other. Some bits of half burned 
anthracite show traces of hematite iron in layers. 

These two kinds of coal bear the same relation 
to each other that limestone bears to marble; an¬ 
thracite is metamorphic soft coal. To prove this, 
call to mind the region of country where it is found. 
Our anthracite is found in the mountains of Penn¬ 
sylvania, and the bituminous coal in the central 



— 32 — 


and western states, where the country is nearly all 
prairie land. How were the mountains formed ? 
It is supposed that under the rocky crust of the 
earth there is a mass of melted rock, and that the 
gases all the time forming there push so against 
the rocks above as to lift up and fold over the dif¬ 
ferent beds or strata. You have seen how steam 
in the tea kettle will make the lid hop up and down 
and if you should close the spout and fasten the 
cover down so tightly that no steam would escape, 
the pressure would become great enough to burst 
the kettle. If it were not for the volcanoes, earth¬ 
quakes would be much more common and the crust 
might crack all to pieces. The rocks were not 
nearly so thick when the coal beds were formed as 
they are now, so instead of breaking them the 
force within lifted and folded them and at the same 
time produced heat enough to change limestone 
into marble and soft coal into hard coal. 

(Use some simple illustration of the change of motion 
into heat.) 

To show how the strata were folded, I press 
together layers of soft clay which are colored 
differently to represent the various beds of rock 
and coal. And now I think you have some idea of 
the reason for the differences between the two 
kinds of coal. Can any of you tell me what kind 
should be found in Iowa, Minnesota, Missouri, etc. ? 

Close these lessons on coal with a few questions in 
review, concerning origin, uses, sources, etc. 


CHAPTER IV. 


FRAGMENTAL ROCKS. 


T HESE are sand, gravel, earth, clay and mud. 
They are produced by the action of flowing 
water and ice, upon other rocks and are 
often found at great distances from their source. 
Study first their origin ; second, their travels; and 
then close the series by telling Prof. Jordan’s 
“ Story of a Stone.” 


LESSON I. 

In studying the different forms of quartz we 
have examined sand and earth to detect the 
presence of this mineral but have said nothing 
concerning the form of these little grains or their 
origin. When playing on the pebbly beach, the 
child finds great pleasure in picking up and sorting 
the variously colored and rounded stones, and if 
his attention has been drawn to things of this kind, 
will begin to inquire about their origin. Where 
did they come from ; what made them round, etc., 
etc. Perhaps one little fellow brings a handful to 
his teacher who is always willing to listen and to 


2 





— 34 — 


answer his earnest questions if it is in her power. 
She puts a little sand in one pile, soil in another, 
and with the use of a glass he examines closely the 
grains of mineral in each and compares them with 
his pebbles. They are all more or less roun led 
and will scratch glass when rubbed hard against it, 
proving they are about equal in hardness, and 
among all his round stones he will find none as soft 
as limestone; a foreshadowing of the truth that 
only very hard minerals are able to resist the 
grinding powers of stones carried along by rapid 
torrents or rivers of ice. “Let us see if we can 
make pebbles,” she says; so they put fragments 
of limestone into a jar of water and each child 
shakes them about vigorously for a few minutes. 
They examine the stones but as yet there is no 
perceptible change so they all try again, shaking 
harder and longer. Now the sharp edges are dis¬ 
appearing and another shake shows a decided 
change (if the limestone were comparatively soft). 
All see now, at least one reason for the rounding 
of the pebbles. They notice also, that the water 
in the jar is no longer clear, and, after a few ques¬ 
tions, or perhaps without any remark from the 
teacher, decide that the material rubbed off the 
stones colors the water. The jar is set aside so 
that the sediment can be examined the next day. 
The teacher asks if any one has ever visited 
the sea shore, and with the aid of pictures, 
describes the appearance of the rocky coast and 


— 35 — 


beach covered with boulders, pebbles and sand. 
She speaks of the wearing action of the waves 
as they dash upon the shore, breaking away 
great pieces now and then, which bound down¬ 
ward, crashing into smaller portions as they strike 
other rocks below. Still the waves are not satisfied 
with their work. They tumble over each other in 
their haste to continue this battle with the rocks 
and as they recede, carry with them the broken 
fragments, rolling them over and over, and rubbing 
them together until they are no longer sharp, 
irregular pieces but rounded pebbles. Now the 
waves, as though tired of their playthings, toss 
them back upon the shore among the sand and 
boulders. “But where did the sand come from ?” 
one may ask, so the jar of water in which they tossed 
the bits of limestone back and forth, is brought 
out, the water poured off carefully and the sedi¬ 
ment examined. They recall the fact that this is 
the powdered rock worn off in making the pebbles, 
so they infer that the sand is the detritus formed 
in making the pebbles from the hard sandstone. 
Sometimes the rocks of the coast are of granite 
but as much of that is quartz, the detritus would 
be sand containing shiny bits of mica. 

(Break a piece of granite into as fine particles as 
possible.) 

In conclusion she asks them to tell her again 
why the sand is in rounded grains rather than in a 
powder, and how it is deposited on the coast. 




— 36 — 

LESSON II. 

TRANSPORTATION OF PEBBLES AND COBBLESTONES. 

Some of the children have seen cobblestones 
and pebbles scattered over the prairies and the 
question arises where did these come from? There 
are no rocks to be seen and no water to bring them 
from a distance. As a matter of fact both those 
on the prairies and on the lake shore, are the pro¬ 
duct of the glaciers which covered so large a part 
of our country in the far distant ages; therefore 
the teacher describes the modern glacier, tells its 
origin, formation, uses, etc. 

She shows them a large picture of one of the 
famous frozen seas of the Alps, and draws atten¬ 
tion to the moraines or masses of stone and earth 
along its borders, fragments torn from the side of 
the mountain as the mighty glacier moved slowly 
downward. She tells them of Agassiz’s living in a 
woodman’s hut upon the edge of a glacier for three 
years, in order to determine exactly how far it 
moved every year. She speaks of the grinding 
and scratching of the rocks below by means of the 
stones which are carried along at the bottom of 
the glacier. 

“When it reaches the valley,” she continues, 
“the warm air melts the ice and it terminates in an 
icy cliff depositing its freight of stones and earth, 
in great heaps at its foot. During the warm days 


— 37 — 


of summer the top ice of the glacier melts and 
forms little streams which run down into the cracks 
and gather into channels dug out of the softer 
rocks beneath, until finally a mighty torrent of icy 
water flows out at the foot of the glacier. Some¬ 
times beautiful caves are formed which can be 
explored for quite a distance under the ice. 

“We pass from a green slope starred with flowers 
into a cave with walls and pillars of steel-blue ice 
through which the sunlight penetrates, softened 
into a pale twilight. Little rills tinkle, tinkle 
down the walls and through the winding passages 
making music like that of fariy bells. Everything 
is beautiful and strange, but, oh, how cold! We 
shiver and hasten out again into the pleasant sum¬ 
mer land, and look once more upon the glacial 
river as it rushes downward. Many of the stones 
lying at the mouth of the glacier are swept along 
in its course to the valley below. They cover the 
bed of the stream and are plainly visible through 
the clear water. Let us follow the river in its de¬ 
scent. How it roars and foams, tossing its spray 
high in the air as it rushes over, under, and bet¬ 
ween the boulders which now and then obstruct its 
course ; here it has a wider sweep and gentle slope, 
so it murmurs softly over its pebbly bed, each 
ripple breaking against the stones with musical 
tinkle; now it rushes through a narrow rocky 
gorge making the walls resound with its roaring as 
it tumbles over ledges of rock; slower and slower 


— 38 — 


it moves as the descent becomes more gradual, 
and the water is less clear because of the fine earth 
it carries produced by the rubbing of the stones 
and the washing of its banks as it swept down the 
mountain side. Other streams from different 
parts of the mountain meet and join their waters 
to the one we follow, and now a broad river 
spanned by bridges and bearing white winged 
boats upon its gentle bosom, glides onward past 
towns and villiages to the distant sea. 

“A great many years ago before there were any 
human beings on the earth, there was a time when 
the winters were so long and cold that the summer 
heat would not melt nearly all the snow and ice 
formed each year, so the glaciers spread farther 
and farther down the mountain sides until they ex¬ 
tended into the valleys and over the plains, des¬ 
troying all plant life and driving the animals to the 
extreme southern part of our country. The white 
bear and the reindeer roamed over the prairies, 
though their present home is very much farther 
north. 

‘ ‘ Then came long springs and hot summers ; the 
snow and ice began to melt; great floods of water 
swept over the low lands, carrying pebbles, cob¬ 
blestones and much larger pieces of rock called 
boulders, brought by the glaciers from far away 
mountains. Great cakes of ice were carried along 
by the torrents and when these melted the stones 
and earth on their surface were dropped upon the 


— 39 — 


ground. Wliat a long, long journey some of the 
little pebbles had! 

“By and by the water wore deep channels in the 
ground and became broad rivers flowing to the sea or 
to the Gulf of Mexico, and deep basins in the rocks 
became fresh water lakes. Polar bear and reindeer 
hastened to colder regions and birds extended their 
summer outings to the far north. The warm winds 
bore seeds from the south to the barren plains, and 
soon abundant vegetation sprung up in the new 
soil spread over the country by the melting glaciers. 
In this way our Heavenly Father prepared the 
ground for rich grasses and velvety moss and 
clothed the plains and hillsides with their green 
mantle thus furnishing food to numerous animals 
roaming over the plains. 

“All nature rejoiced in this awakening to new 
life, after the long cold winter. 

“ Only the highest mountains retained their 
glaciers, and these are still a great blessing to the 
world. Such great masses of snow and ice are now 
the sources of great rivers as you have seen, and 
furnish fine soil which is spread by the water 
over the land. During the hot days of summer 
vapor rises from their surface and condenses into 
rainclouds which are carried by the winds to the 
thirsty parts of the earth. Thus you see the cold 
of winter and heat of summer are both necessary 
to our comfort and support; ice and snow, water 
and winds unite to make the world a fit habitation 




— 40 — 


for man, and the solid rocks themselves are battered 
and broken by these mighty forces. To-morrow 
I will tell you a story of a pebble.” 

Note.— As granite forms so many of our pebbles 
and is so commonly used in buildings, paving streets, 
etc., it may be well to make a study of this rock. Note 
the quartz forming the glassy points, the bright scales 
of black or white mica, and the white or pink feldspar 
with smooth surface and satiny lustre. Pebbles of feld¬ 
spar, hard shale, slate and trap rock, are common. 



PART SECOND. 


LESSONS IN PLANT LIFE. 

(SPRING ASPECT OF PLANTS.) 


CHAPTER I. 

GROWTH FROM THE SEED. 


T O connect this branch of natural science with 
previous lessons, or any division of them, let 
the children again examine some garden soil, 
weigh the same, then dry thoroughly and weigh 
again ; the difference being the weight of the water. 
Put the dried earth in the fire to burn out the 
carbon formed in the soil by decaying vegetation ; 
then determine the weight of the carbon removed. 
Place the earth now remaining in dilute hydro¬ 
chloric acid to detect the presence of limestone or 
other calcareous material, then wash and strain 
through a coarse cloth, and the sediment will be 
the silica or quartz sand. In this way the children 
gain some idea of the materials required for plant 
food. Place one plant in dry earth, one in dry 





— 42 — 

sand, another in water and still another in wet 
sand. Last of all plant one in moist garden soil. 
The one in dry earth has everything it needs 
except water, but without this can get nothing 
from the earth for want of a solvent; hence it 
withers as rapidly as the one in dry sand. That 
the latter lacks more than water is shown by the 
fact that it does not grow although it will keep 
fresh in wet sand as long as the one in water. 


LESSON II. 

A STUDY OF DICOTYLEDONOUS SEEDS. 

All seeds for examination must be soaked for 
a few hours. 

First examine the bean; notice the different 
parts, such as the seed-leaves, or the halves 
of the bean, the little plumule or bud of leaves 
with its tiny stem or radicle, from one end of 
which the root grows. Notice the seed coats, 
texture, veining, etc. Plant a few beans in proper 
earth, (not too deep) and keep away from the light 
until they sprout. 

Leave some in water for a few days and observe how 
the starch furnishes food for germination. 


LESSON III. 


Compare peas with beans. Both have the food 
for the embryo stored in the seed-leaves, but the 



— 43 — 


seeds differ in shape and color. Both have two 
seed-leaves, but when they germinate the children 
will discover that cotyledons of the bean form the 
first though imperfect leaves of the plant, while in 
the pea, the seed-leaves do not appear above the 
ground. 

Bring out the uses of peas and beans. 


LESSON IV. 

Compare peas with lentils. They too, are 
alike as regards seed-leaves, and similar in color 
and taste, but while the pea is a round ball, the 
lentil is a flattened ball, in this respect resembling 
the sand-dollar, a flat kind of sea-urchin. 

It also closely resembles a fossil shell called 
nummulite, from the word nummus, meaning a 
coin; the children can see from a picture the 
reason for the name. This fossil is very abundant 
in the rock of which the pyramids of Egypt are 
built; and the ground near them is so covered with 
these little shells that people used to think they 
really were lentils turned to stone. When any one 
asked where they came from, (as none of the plants 
grew there,) some wise man said the workmen who 
built the pyramids lived upon lentils, and these 
were the remains of their food. Plant some seeds 
in a row next to the peas. 



— 44 — 


LESSON IV. 

Compare beans with pumpkin, squash, and 
melon seeds. Let the children find plumule in each 
one. Emphasize the fact that in all the seeds 
studied so far, the embryo or young plant is the 
whole seed. They often call the plumule the baby 
and the cotyledons the nurses. 


LESSON V. 

Give each child several varieties of dicotyle¬ 
donous seeds not included in previous lessons, 
such as peanuts, almonds, acorns, apple and 
orange seeds. Let him first compare them with 
the bean or pea; tell how many seed-leaves each 
one has, and whether or not the starch is stored in 
these leaves; have him point out the plumule in 
each seed, and the little stem which bears it. If 
the beans used, are lima or butter beans, it is very 
interesting to compare the seed leaves with the 
leaves of the plumule, as they differ materially in 
form, margin, vernation and purpose. Plant one 
or two apple seeds from each handful, and if your 
window-garden thrives, it will not be long before 
the little plants will peep above ground and the 
different kinds can be compared with each other. 
The children will see new beauties and marvels as 



— 45 — 


they grow and will soon discover for themselves 
that those starting in life with two nurses, have 
netted veined leaves. 


LESSON VI. 

We now turn to plants with only one cotyledon, 
and take for our first lesson that familiar grain, 
Indian corn. Begin the lesson with seeds that 
have been soaking for twenty-four hours, but have 
others ready for later use, which have been in 
water long enough to germinate. Give several to 
each child and show him how to take out the em¬ 
bryo, which forms the white center of the grain. 
If his little fingers are well under his control, he 
can even lift the plumule, with a pin, out of the 
one seed-leaf. Have him notice how the nurse en¬ 
folds the tiny bud, and ask if-the starch, or food 
for the plant is stored in, or around the colytedon, 
for in this respect it differs from all the other seeds 
he has examined. 

Compare the first specimens of corn with those 
already germinating; in the latter the plumule has 
pushed its way partly out of the embrace of the 
nurse, and has begun to send out tiny rootlets, 
getting ready in fact, for a free and independent 
life. It begins to feel strong enough now, to earn 
its own living, but the nurse holds it back a little, 



— 46 — 


as if she would say, “not quite so fast, dear, you 
cannot live yet on any other food than this, stored 
here in your little home. By and by you can go 
out into the world, so push out your tiny roots and 
draw in the water which softens and sweetens your 
food.” 

When eyes and fingers can discover nothing 
more in the kernels, bring out an ear of corn for 
examination. Ask if any of them have ever seen 
a corn field, and have them give a description of 
it, or show them a picture and give your own des¬ 
cription. Probably all have seen green corn in the 
husk and can tell something about the numerons 
leaf wrappings and the fine yellow silk pistils, pro¬ 
jecting like a tassel from the husk. 

Ask them to tell the use of these outer leaves, 

etc. 

Let them remove the corn from the cob, so they 
can see the little niches where the grains or kernels 
were fitted in. Finally give the origin of the name 
Indian corn, and sum up the various uses of the 
grain. Plant some kernels in a window box re¬ 
served for monocotyledonous plants. 


LESSON VII. 

Tell the Indian legend concerning the origin of 
Indian corn, adapted from the story as told in the 
poem of Hiawatha. 



— 47 — 


LESSON VIII. 

Study wheat in the same manner as the corn, 
first comparing the two. It will require much skill 
and patience to remove the germ and it will he 
difficult to separate the plumule from the cotyledon, 
a magnifying glass being necessary with which to 
study the different parts. If possible, get a head 
of wheat in order to compare its manner of growth 
with that of the corn. Ask which is the more use¬ 
ful of the two grains. 


LESSON IX. 

Compare wheat with oats, and plant some on 
thin layers of cotton in different glasses of water. 
Put in a dark place to germinate, explaining that the 
roots cannot start in the light, and that as soon as 
the grain has sprouted you will put the glasses in 
the window so the leaves can get the light they 
need for growth and color. 


LESSON X. 

Let us examine our young bean plants to-day. 
What are those two leaves which are so thick and 
clumsy looking, not at all like ordinary leaves? 
“Oh, those are the seed-leaves,” says one child. 
But they are beginning to look yellow and with¬ 
ered, why is that? “Because they have given 




— 48 — 


nearly all their starch to the young plant,” one 
says. Yes, the nurses have given their strength 
and flesh to feed the nursling and now they are old 
and wrinkled; but see how the true leaves have 
grown; they have unfolded and spread out on 
opposite sides of the stem, like the wings of the 
butterfly. Do you remember how it was with our 
new butterfly, the other day, when he first crawled 
out of his silken bed? His wings were folded 
close to his body and it was some time before he 
could unfold them. These delicate green leaves 
drink in the air and the sunshine, as we take the 
air into our iungs, so we might call them the lungs 
of the plant. 

The tiny rootlets take food from the earth and 
the stem passes it on the leaves. However, there 
must be plenty of water in the sap to dissolve and 
carry the minerals and carbon furnished by the 
soil, so we take good care that our plants do not 
suffer from thirst. Plants need water as much as 
we do, and if they happen to grow in a dry, sandy 
country, as is the case with the caetus, etc., they 
get their drink from the air. We shall learn more 
about them after a while. Look again at the 
leaves of our bean plant, and tell me what you see. 
Little lines extending from the stem through all 
parts of the leaves. “One runs to the top and 
other large ones branch from it,” says one, while 
another traces the net-work of small veins or 
veinlets. These are hollow tubes which serve the 


— 49 — 


same purpose to the leaf as our veins do to our 
body. They carry the sap, as our veins carry the 
blood, therefore, we give them the same name. 
Look at the veins on the under side of your arm 
near the wrist. See how they branch in every 
direction, like the limbs and twigs of a tree. 
There are numerous, very fine, hair-like blood¬ 
vessels that you cannot see, but if you prick your 
finger anywhere, you puncture one of these and let 
out the blood, so when a leaf is pricked a little sap 
oozes out. 

Here are some larger leaves which I brought 
from the florists this morning. Let me see if 
you can trace all the veins in each one. Hold 
them up to the light and you can see many more 
of the tiny ones. Break one leaf in pieces; you 
see that it tears easily along the veins but not 
across them as they are made of tough wood fibres 
or threads. Perhaps you can pull one out and see 
for yourself how strong it is. Now here is a leaf, 
or rather a frame-work of a leaf, which is only a 
net-work of veins; was there ever a bit of lace 
more beautiful than this? What shall we call it? 
A leaf skeleton? That is a good name, for it is 
the bony structure. It supports the soft parts of 
the leaf, just as our bones support onr flesh, as the 
shell of the sea urchin supports his spiny covering. 

One little fellow declares the midrib to be the 
backbone and the side veins to be the ribs. You 
see, therefore, that the veins of a leaf serve two 


— 50 — 


purposes ; to carry the sap and to furnish strength. 
As yet our young bean plant is soft and tender for 
it has not been growing long enough to build up 
very much woody fibre. 

We will put it back in the sunshine where it 
will grow larger and stronger, first thanking it for 
the lesson it has taught us concerning the goodness 
and wisdom of Our Heavenly Father shown in pro¬ 
viding for the wants of a tiny plant. Nothing is 
too small or insignificant for His love and care. 


LESSON XI. 

Examine the growing pea and finally compare 
it with the bean. Note the fact that the seed- 
leaves do not come entirely above ground, and do 
not separate as do those of the bean, and the little 
plumule has to force its way out, first sending 
down its roots and then drawing out its head; still 
clinging to its nurses, however, in this early stage 
of growth. An acorn at the same stage of de¬ 
velopment shows the same method of germination. 
Note that the first leaves are little more than scales, 
the upper ones being more nearly perfect than the 
others. At a more advanced stage, the change 
from a mere scale to the perfect compound leaf 
is very marked. Close this lesson with the little 
“Story of a pea-pod/’ adapted for use in the kin¬ 
dergarten. 



CHAPTER II. 


A STUDY OF LEAVES AND ROOTS. 


LESSON I. 

S TUDY closely tlie wheat growing in the glass 
of water. Note especially form, margin 
and venation of the leaves. Holding the 
glass up to the light, the hair-like rootlets border¬ 
ing the principal roots can be plainly seen. Recall 
the fact that the wheat grain has only one seed- 
leaf, and compare the leaves with those of peas, 
beans, or other plants sufficiently advanced to show 
the difference in venation. In time the children 
will perceive parallel-veined leaves occur on mono- 
cotyledonous plants, and net-veined ones, on 
dicotyledonous plants. Finally, compare wheat to 
grass, and bring out its uses. 


LESSON II. 

Compare the growing oats with the wheat. 

They so closely resemble each other that they 
can be distinguished only by the slight difference 





— 52 — 


in the size of the leaf and by the thicker fringe of 
rootlets. After speaking of its uses, abundance, 
etc., draw a picture representing heads of these 
different grains, unless you are fortunate enough 
to possess the real thing. 


LESSON III. 

Study grass, using two or more different 
species for comparison. 

Refer to its beauty, usefulness to man and beast, 
endurance and luxuriant growth when repeatedly 
cut by the mower; being prevented in this way from 
propagating itself by seed, it grows more rapidly 
by its roots which branch out and interlace until 
the whole soil is a net-work of fibres. Mention the 
fact that grasses growing on steep mountain sides 
where the winds have full sweep, sometimes bear 
no seeds but young plants which are curled around 
the parent stem and resemble flowers. When the 
right time comes they loose their hold, drop to the 
ground and take root immediately. Another ex¬ 
ample of Nature’s adaptation to circumstances. 

If the children belong to the primary depart¬ 
ment, they will be much interested in learning 
something of the protection afforded by grass to 
the earth of hillside and valley ; its interlacing roots 
holding down the loose soil that would otherwise 



— 53 — 


be swept away by the winds and thus leave the 
rocks exposed to the action of water, wind and 
frost. 


LESSON IV. 

If the season is sufficiently advanced, so that 
numerous examples of different leaf forms can be 
obtained, make a study of three or four common 
forms of netted leaves; cordate, ovate, oval and 
round, are enough for first observation. Review 
former leaf lessons before drawing attention to 
anything new. 


LESSON V. 

Select leaves, showing a marked difference in 
form and method of net veining, to illustrate 
feather, and palmate venation. Willow and red 
geranium leaves are good examples, and at the 
same time introduce one new form, and a combina¬ 
tion of two others ; viz., the round, and the cordate 
leaf. Hence the compound name, round-cordate. 
Strengthen these new impressions by the introduc¬ 
tion of other leaves of similar character. 


LESSON VI. 

Determine the form of grass leaves, pine need¬ 
les, etc., and compare in other respects ; such as the 





— 54 — 


manner of growth, length of life, etc. Both plants 
are types of endurance, energy and perseverance; 
each making the best of everything, and struggling 
with all its might to accomplish the work assigned 
it; yet how different in appearance are the humble 
grass, and the pine stretching itself upward toward 
heaven. 


LESSON VII. 

As illustrations of lobed leaves observe those of 
the maple and the oak. Let the children draw 
outline of cordate leaf and then place the maple 
within it. Introduce other leaves showing regular 
gradation between the lobed, and the compound 
leaves ; the maple being the starting point for those 
that are palmately compound, the oak, for pinnately 
compound leaves. 


LESSON VIII. 

ONE FUNCTION OF LEAVES. 

To show that leaves transpire, or perspire, as 
one might say, place a spray of large leaves, such 
as those of the horse-chestnut, between two panes 
of glass tied together and suspended in a sunny 
window so that the stem rests in water. In about 




55 


three hours numerous drops of water appear on the 
inside of the glass, and when taken apart the pane 
next to the under side of the leaves will have the 
most moisture on its surface. Explain. 


LESSON IX. 

TO SHOW CIRCULATION OF THE SAP. 

Into a glass tube three or four inches long and 
about one inch in diameter, place a stout stem 
bearing several leaves, the stem passing through a 
hole in a tightly fitting cork, and extended to a 
similar one in the bottom of the tube. In this 
second cork is fitted a very fine glass tube one foot 
or more in length. Close the lower end of long 
tube with the finger, fill both tubes with water and 
insert lower end in a vessel of colored water. 
Support the whole apparatus in a frame work and 
place in the sunlight. As soon as the stem has 
absorbed the water in the upper tube, the colored 
water will begin to ascend the fine tube to furnish 
further supply. 



CHAPTER II. 


A STUDY OF TWIGS. 


H AVE you ever noticed the beauty and variety 
in a bundle of fresh twigs, gathered at the 
time the buds begin to swell? A regular 
order governs the arrangement and position of the 
buds on the stem. Not only are they opposite or 
alternate, but the angle varies with the species. 
Compare the elm and the birch; the former has its 
buds at acute angles to the stem, while those of 
the latter not only press closely to it but curve 
partly around it, as do the pussies of the willow. 
The tiny sumach buds are almost imbedded in the 
bark, while the large varnished ones of the cotton¬ 
wood stand up stiffly at an angle of about 40 
degrees. The general size of buds also varies in 
different species: compare the lilac with the 
syringa, and the birch with the cottonwood; the 
sumach with the horsechestnut; yet the full grown 
leaves of the former compare favorably in size with 
those of the latter, and the leaves of the syringa 
are as large as those of the lilac. It is interesting 
to stud}^ out the reason for this difference in the 
size of leaf buds. 



— 57 — 


Observe the variety in color and shades. The 
thick horsechestnut with its reddish brown scales 
presents a charming contrast to the slender olive 
green buds of the cottonwood. When we take the 
buds apart we find a great difference in the verna¬ 
tion of the leaves, though the arrangement of the 
scales is about the same. In the lilac, the leaves 
are laid one over the other like shingles on a roof; 
in the cottonwood, rolled in from both edges ; in the 
currant, folded like a fan; in the tulip tree, folded 
double and bent downward between the stipules; 
in the fern, coiled like a watch spring; in short, 
each species has its own method of packing away 
the tiny leaves formed during the previous sum¬ 
mer. There is a difference, also, in the manner in 
which the buds are protected from the cold. Some 
are simply enveloped in numerous scales; others 
have a layer of cotton or coarse woody fibre within 
the scale , and still others are encased in varnished 
coverings. The willow is content with one thick¬ 
ened scale, but presses closely to the parent stem, 
while the sumach buds, as stated before, are 
deeply sunken in the bark. All these various 
methods are illustrations of Nature’s infinite 
resources, and of order in the midst of variety. 
Some species will present different aspects under 
different conditions: take for example, the Mag¬ 
nolia grandiflora; when growing in the latitude of 
southern Missouri, or Kentucky, the large flower 
buds are covered with a light brown wooly scale, 


— 58 — 


resembling a pointed fur cap; but it lacks this 
covering in the south. 

Another interesting point, is the variety of 
color in the bark of different species; deep rich 
red in the osier cornel and some maple twigs; 
greenish gray in the lilac and yellowish gray in the 
cottonwood; olive and red in the willows, and 
reddish brown in the cherries; blackish brown in 
the oak and the elm. 

The stems vary also, in size, strength and out¬ 
line ; some are straight and stiff, others are irregular 
and still others droop as if too weak to hold them¬ 
selves erect. The surface is rough in some species 
and smooth in others. Many tree twigs have ter¬ 
minal buds but most of those from shrubs have only 
lateral ones. Generally, the largest buds are near 
the top, but in such plants as raspberry, etc., they 
are below. The leaf scars vary, and the gnarly 
appearance of the oak branches are due to the 
number and prominence of these scars. Contrast 
the willow with the oak, or the birch with the cot¬ 
tonwood. 

Shrub stems can usually be distinguished from 
those of trees, by the greater proportion of pith, 
thinner bark and softer wood. 

It is a delight to watch these buds develop in 
water kept in a warm room, and thus get a little in 
advance of mother Nature; as we often succeed 
in bringing out not only leaves but blossoms, such 
as those of the willow, the cherry, the apple and 


— 59 — 


the currant. But after all, it is only a forced cul¬ 
ture, and the puny blossoms have no power to 
perfect themselves in fruit; being separated from 
the parent trees, and having no means of securing 
further supplies from the mother of all, their little 
strength is soon exhausted. 

Our object in presenting these twigs to the 
child is not only to cultivate observation, but to 
lead him to discover the first and grandest law of 
Nature, and to develop in him a desire for further 
research. 


OUTLINES OF TWIG LESSONS. 


LESSON I. 

Examine a lilac twig. Notice form and color 
of the stem, and the difference between the inner 
and outer bark. In this connection, mention might 
be made of the so-called lace tree of Jamaica. 
Examine cross section and compare the pith with 
the wood. Then study the buds; their arrange¬ 
ment on the stem, form and color; the number, 
form and arrangement of the enveloping scales, 
and their variation in size; compare with the true 
leaves, which are distinguished from the scales by 
their smaller size and position in the center of the 
bud. Study the leaf scars and explain their origin. 
Observe that the larger buds are near the top and 
inquire if anyone can give a reason for this. 




— 60 — 


When all these external things have been im¬ 
pressed upon the children, you may touch upon the 
symbolical meanings. The tree or shrub may be 
compared to a community of idividuals, closely re¬ 
lated and mutually dependent. It might be con¬ 
sidered a large family, every twig and branch being 
a child, their ages determined by the rings of wood 
within the bark. The buds might be called the 
babes, and though innumerable, the mother tree is 
equal to her responsibilites. The children, too, 
bear their share in caring for this large family, for 
they nourish as well as support the babes entrusted 
to them. If it were not for the sap which they re¬ 
ceive from the general supply, and keep in store 
for the use of the buds, these would not develope 
at all when removed from the parent. 

But trees and bushes bear seeds as well as leaf 
buds, you have seen, and these seeds when planted, 
produce new bushes, so we perceive that some of 
the children do not grow with the mother. She 
sends them abroad to form new colonies, just as 
certain governments form new states and cities in 
foreign lands. Compare the seed with the bud; 
the former has seed-leaves instead of scales, to be 
sure, but they serve as a means of protection, and 
often contain the food for the plumule; the latter 
corresponds to the true leaves in the bud. So 
there is not very much difference between the two 
methods of reproduction. The seed, however is 
fitted for an independent existence, while twigs are 


— 61 — 


not, as a rule. We shall note the exceptions later. 

Finally determine the uses of the lilac bush, to 
man and animals, and whether they receive from 
birds or poultry anything in exchange for shade 
and shelter. 


LESSON II. 

Compare lilac, syringa and maple twigs, empha¬ 
sizing the similar arrangement of buds and character 
of stem. Note the differences in bark, color, hard¬ 
ness and proportion of woody fibre. Bring out a 
general truth not mentioned in previous lessons, 
viz: that the sap is most abundant between the 
wood and inner bark ; (if growth has commenced) ; 
observe the difference between a live and a dead 
twig, in this respect and show that the former is 
tough while the latter is very brittle. It might be 
well, in this connection, to compare perennial and 
annual stems. The latter have very little woody 
fibre, and are either hollow or composed almost 
entirely of pith and thin loosely woven bark; the 
sunflower stalk is a good example of such a stem. 
If a child should inquire into the use of the bark, 
first draw out the impressions of the others in re¬ 
gard to it, then add your own explanation, making 
the “indefinite, definite.” Illustrate by exainples 
of trees losing their power of growth from the re¬ 
moval of the bark. Connect with the child by 
comparing it with the skin. 



— 62 — 


LESSON III. 

In this lesson, compare a linden, elm or similar 
twigs with the maple, to make prominent the dif¬ 
ference between the opposite and alternate arrange¬ 
ment. All truths learned about trees and shrubs 
in previous lessons, can be reiterated in the study 
of this new T twig. If circumstances permit, take 
the little ones out to examine maple and elm trees 
for the purpose of observing how the general ap¬ 
pearance of the tree is affected by the arrangement 
of the buds and size of the twigs. 

Those of the elm being so slender and numer¬ 
ous give the bare tree a more delicate airy appear¬ 
ance than the maple. Compare the bark of the 
stem with that of the trunk. Notice how the bush 
differs from the tree in having no regular trunk, 
and thus give them an idea of the difference be¬ 
tween a grove and a thicket. 


LESSON IV. 

Examine the cottonwood twig, paying special 
attention to the varnished buds, numerous scales, 
vernation, form and veining of the true leaves. It 
requires care and patience to unroll such tiny, 
sticky leaves, but it is a great satisfaction to ac¬ 
complish the unveiling of so complete a branch of 
new foliage; nothing is lacking, even the stem of 



— 63 — 


the future twig is there. When any child discovers 
a fuzzy catkin, instead of leaves, there is excited a 
desire to investigate the contents of every bud, but 
they soon learn that flower buds are larger than 
the others, and develope faster when placed in 
water. Compare the cottonwood with the elm, to 
suggest variety in the alternate arrangement of 
buds. 


LESSON V. 

Take the willow as the subject of this lesson. 
Examine first the stem bearing only leaf buds, and 
compare with the cottonwood. Although the ar¬ 
rangement is exactly the same, neither the buds 
nor the stem are at all alike, hence the children 
will not infer any close relation between them. In 
May or June, when the fertile catkins are ap¬ 
proaching maturity their family resemblance in 
this respect can be noted. Of course the darlings 
of the children are the soft gray pussies, and how 
delightful it is to watch their gradual unfolding 
from the tiny brown bud ! Some of the lower 
ones are much slower in coming out and seem a 
little timid ; while those at the top may be showing 
their yellow stamens, others may be just pushing 
out their silky heads. One twig may bear only 
pistillate catkins and these can be compared with 
the others, the children receiving their first irnpres- 



— 64 — 


sions of the different organs of a flower. Inquire 
into the uses of the gray hairs forming so large a 
part of the catkins. 

It is well to have at least two different kinds of 
willows to compare with each other. The red osier 
or basket willow growing in the water’s edge, and 
the brownish graj" scurfjr twigs of the prairie and 
upland willow. The stamens of the latter have 
red, instead of yellow authers, and the catkins are 
not so compact. Bring out the uses of the willow, 
its rapid growth from saplings illustrated by twigs 
which have developed numerous roots after stand¬ 
ing some time in water, and note especially the fact 
that these roots grow on any portion of the im¬ 
mersed stem. Plant one or more saplings in the 
yard. Draw attention to the fact that the willows 
are the first of all the trees to put on their green 
robes. 


LESSON VI. 

The oak presents a striking contrast to the wil¬ 
low in many respects, especially in the time of un¬ 
folding, therefore it forms a fitting peg upon which 
to hang new pictures of tree life. Compare the 
oak twig just unfolding its downy red leaves with 
the willow whose pale green, lance-shaped foliage 
is well developed ; then study acorns and germina¬ 
ting oaks in several stages of growth. Mention the 



— 65 — 


use of acorns as food for animals, etc., and the 
manufacture of oak wood into furniture, its use as 
fuel, building lumber, etc. Describe the great oak 
forests of England, whose venerable trees are fit 
emblems of immortality. In their shade the Druids 
built their altars and the forest aisles were their 
temple cloisters. Here they taught the youth of 
ancient Britain and celebrated the rites of worship. 


LESSON VII. 

Tell the story of Quercus Alba. 


A TALK ABOUT TREES. 

The tree is one of the most precious gifts from 
nature. It casts its grateful shade upon the weary 
traveler and the panting animal; shields the springs 
from the thirsty sun, shelters the birds in its 
branches and protects the delicate anemones and 
violets that nestle at its feet. It stands with many 
of its fellows on the mountain side bracing itself 
against the sweeping winds and shielding the little 
bamlet below from the avalanche which torn from 
its home among the clouds by the warm south 
wind, rushes down the mountain slope sweeping 
everything before ’it, until its power is exhausted 
by the struggle with the forest. 


3 




— 66 — 


The tree is a type of strength and courage; of 
tenderness and power; of softness and vigor; of 
economy and luxriance; and of aspiration and 
struggle. In length of days it is so superior to 
man that it became to primitive nations, the sym¬ 
bol of immortality, as well as of natural forces. 

Mysterious, sublime, majestic, towered the tree 
Ygdrasil of Norse mythology. The foundation- of 
the universe, its roots extended through immeas¬ 
urable distances, one into the land of the gods, 
another into the home of the Giants, and a third 
one into the land of darkness and silence. Three 
goddesses or fates, we are told, have charge of the 
first root and are considered the dispensors of life 
and fortune. By the side of each root is a spring 
which waters it. The first, is the “River of 
Life,” the second “ is Ymir’s well in which wisdom 
and wit lie hidden,” fit inspiration for the merry 
giants of Jotenheim who were wise enough to 
confound Thor by stratagem and witty enough to 
indulge in many practical jokes at his expense. 
The third root, penetrating the land of cold and 
darkness is fed by a spring which nourishes the 
“adder Nidogge” constantly gnawing at the 
root, symbolizing the struggle of life and death 
going on in the animal and the vegetable world. 
The four winds of heaven are represented by four 
hinds which run among the branches biting the 
buds. Ygdrasil spreads its vast extent of foliage 
in space and the murmur of the leaves is the noise 


of warring nations. Cycle after cycle passes 
away. Nation after nation arises, endures for a 
season, then dies and gives place to others, just as 
the foliage of the tree is renewed each spring. 

The Norseman uses for his typical tree, the ash, 
a hardy native of the north. He does not invest it 
with the attributes of divinity, but uses it only as a 
type of the dumb forces of nature, not as an object 
of worship as is the tree among those who dwell 
upon treeless plains or in sandy deserts. The 
Persian or the Russian of the steppes bows down 
before the plane tree whose wide spreading 
branches protects the spring nestling at its foot, 
giving its grateful shade in return for the precious 
fluid. The traveler knows that within this hidden 
resevoir are the sources of many rivulets and with 
thankful heart he hangs an offering upon the 
branches of the beneficent tree, the support as 
well as the symbol of life. Many and varied are 
these tributes of affection, but they are faithful 
expressions of love and adoration laid upon the 
altar of the Universal Good. 

According to Michelet, the Egyptian associates 
thoughts of death and sorrow with the gloomy 
cypress, which seems to murmur a dirge in his ear, 
recalling the memory of the lost. 

The palm, however, whispers consolation, and 
to his chosen one, he confides his sorrows and his 
fears, knowing that this faithful confidant will 
safely guard his secret woes from prying ears. 


— 68 — 


’Tis said that none of his own family venture to 
intrude upon this communion with the tree of his 
choice, and should it be destroyed great is their 
lamentation, so closely is the fate of their lord en¬ 
twined with its fibres; 

The Greek’s conceptions of the tree were very 
different from those of the Norseman or the Egyp¬ 
tian. His forests were abodes of graceful nymphs, 
and gods and goddesses roamed through those 
sacred shades. The trees, themselves, were in¬ 
stinct with mysterious forces. The rustle of the 
leaves was the voice of deity or the sad complain¬ 
ings of some spirit imprisoned in the bark. The 
laurel was the transformed body of Daphne and 
her spirit was its life. Only the wise or the brave 
were deemed worthy to wear the laurel crown. 
Many an imaginative youth has watched for the 
dryad as she stepped from the enclosing arms of 
her tree, but the coy maiden never revealed herself 
except in stray glimpses. Here we see typified 
the mystery of the tree. The dryad is the life, 
now and then half revealing itself in the processes 
of nature, and again baffling all research into its 
origin and power. How she transforms the inert 
mineral, the air and the sunshine into the delicately 
shaded leaf, and the beautiful fragrant flower; how 
she builds up and strengthens this dear object of 
her care, we know not. We have discovered the 
source of supply and see the results of her alchemy; 
but one little closet of her work-shop is closed 


— 69 — 


against us and upon the door is written, “No 
mortal can enter here. ,, In the outer room are 
her assistants busily employed and not averse to 
answering questions now and then, but the ruling 
spirit withdraws herself from our gaze. 

Numerous passages in the Holy Scriptures con¬ 
tain references to certain symbolical trees: the 
tree of knowledge, which also became the tree of 
death ; the tree of life in Paradise, whose leaves are 
for the healing of nations. Others, you will re¬ 
member, are made sacred by association. How 
many sad and solemn thoughts cluster around the 
olive trees of Gethsemane! How dear to the 
hearts of the Hebrews were the cedars of Lebanon! 

Certain trees have become celebrated in legen¬ 
dary lore, and wonderful as are the facts concern¬ 
ing them, tradition goes far beyond the records of 
history. Josephus speaks of a “turpentine tree ” 
which was declared to be as old as Adam. Pliny 
mentions with apparent credence, an olive tree still 
growing in the citadel of Athens said to have been 
planted by Minerva upon the foundation of the city 
of Cecrops. 

The Upas tree was invested by tradition with 
all the attributes of evil. Sudden death lurked in 
its shadow as well as in its sap. It filled the air 
with poisonous vapors, and even birds flying over 
the valley in which it grew, were slain by its fatal 
breath. ’Twas said that criminals condemned to 
death were sentenced to breath the air of the Upas 


— 70 — 


grove. No doubt to the ignorant and superstitious 
natives of Java this tree became the embodiment 
of a malignant spirit taking pleasure in wanton 
destruction. In the land of its birth, vegetation, 
fed by the heat of volcanic fires and noisome 
vapors is noted alike for its beauty and poisonous 
properties. Death hides within the gorgeous 
chalices of the flowers and in the heavy odors which 
drug the brain with deadly sweetness. 

A holm oak mentioned by Pliny as still in 
existence in Rome had carved on its trunk an 
Etruscan inscription declaring the tree to have 
been “ an object of inspiration” before the city 
was built. How suggestive the phrase, “an object 
of inspiration! ” 


CHAPTER IV, 


GROWTH FROM BULBS, ETC. 


W E have watched the growth of a plant from 
a seed and that of a twig from a leaf 
bud, but there is another equally im¬ 
portant method, viz: growth from perennial roots, 
bulbs and root-stocks. The child must learn some¬ 
thing of these in order to understand the sudden 
and rapid development of vegetation in early 
spring. 

Let the south wind and the sun unite their 
forces for a few days, and the brown earth teeming 
with life is soon covered with a mantle of green 
embroidered with the delicate blossoms of spring. 
Before the trees have ventured to unfold their 
baby leaves, and the embryo is still asleep in its 
nurse’s arms, the snow-drop and the blood-root are 
the first to answer nature’s call; then follow wind¬ 
flower, violet and butter-cup, though chill winds 
and even biting frost may come and blight the first 
daring blossoms. 

Alternate the first twig lessons with studies of 
thickened roots, using carrots, parsnips, winter beets, 
salsify, etc. 




— 72 


LESSON I. 

Take the carrot for this lesson. Note the 
color, form, surface, scattered rootlets, etc. ; then 
observe the different rings, number, shade and 
texture, in a cross section; also the abundant sap 
inclosed in the tissues. Cut a longitudinal section 
and compare with the other. Mention the fact 
tha£ this plant lives two years, though the stem 
and leaves die down each year. As seed is not 
usually perfected until the second year, food must 
be stored in the root until the plant is prepared to 
reproduce itself. Observe that the oldest carrots 
have more woody fibre and less sap. Inquire the 
use of this vegetable, and bring the lesson to a 
close by planting a carrot in a glass fruit jar filled 
with water. If kept in a warm, sunny room, it will 
develop not only its abundant feathery foliage, but 
even the flower cluster of greenish white blossoms. 
It not only illustrates the large amount of food 
stored in the root, but is an object of beauty. 


LESSON II. 

Observe the beet and compare with the carrot. 
Inquire the source of color in both, and so connect 
with the child; hematite being the coloring princi¬ 
ple in the sap of the vegetable and the blood of 
the animal. 



— 73 — 


LESSON III. 

Examine parsnips and sweet potatoes, and com¬ 
pare with those observed before. 


LESSON IV. 

In the study of bulbs, it is best to begin with 
the lily bulb to show that it is formed of the thick¬ 
ened bases of the leaves. As this is the time for 
starting Easter plants, the hyacinth bulb should 
be carefully observed before planting in a glass. 
Its rapid development, mass of fibrous roots and 
the form, venation, etc., of the leaves will furnish 
abundant material for future study and comparison 
with the growth from roots. 

The oxalis bulb, so easily removed from under 
the dead leaves of the forests, is a perfect example 
of bulbs like the lily. 


LESSON V. 

Solomon’s seal, blue flag, etc., are good ex¬ 
amples of root-stocks, which, if procured early in 
the spring, will show large terminal buds to com¬ 
pare with those of twigs; while the leaf scars, or 
seals of the first will give the children an additional 
proof of its character. 




— 74 — 


LESSON VI. 

The study of the tuber should follow that of 
root-stocks. A potato that has begun to sprout is 
the best to show that the eyes are buds. Compare 
it with a sweet potato and a carrot, externally and 
internally, until the difference between roots and 
tubers is well understood. 

Plant a thin section containing one eye but 
very little starch ; then plant several thick pieces, 
so as to have plants for observation at different 
stages of growth. Tubers as large as acorns may 
form and the children will then be able to distin¬ 
guish the fibrous roots from the root-stocks bearing 
the thickened ends or tubers. 


LESSONS VII. 

Perennial fibrous roots are illustrated by those 
of grass, strawberries, etc. 



CHAPTER Y. 


FALL ASPECT OF PLANTS. 


S UMMER is over, the flowers of field and forest 
are dead, and the leaves are rustling about 
our feet, every little gust of wind snatching 
from the trees their few remaining treasures, or 
scraps of summer finery. The highly colored leaves 
of autumn are gathered and laid away with the del¬ 
icate pressed ferns and flowers, souvenirs of our 
late summer rambles, to be used for future decor¬ 
ation. There is a chill in the air, a suggestioon of 
frost, and nature puts on a face wrinkled with age 
and weariness. “The melancholy days have 
come ” when memory contrasts the present with 
the past, but hope gives promise of joys in the 
bright days to come. To the child, the past is but 
a small part of existence and the future is every¬ 
thing. The approaching season brings no dread, 
but dreams of merry play and joys peculiar to the 
winter. 

Even to him, however, the transition season 
possesses few charms unless he is led to see that 
this is the time in which Nature stops to look back 
over her work for the year, to make everything 




— 76 — 


snug for the long night and ready for the grand 
opening in the spring. She is the mother, who, 
before she takes her own rest visits the children’s 
room to see that they are well wrapt up against the 
cold. She spreads the thick leaf blanket over the 
arbutus, spring beauties, violets and other darlings 
of the spring; covers over the grass of field and 
forest and sees that plenty of nourishing food is 
stored in their roots. The old flower stocks 
crackle and snap in the wind, but Mother Nature 
sees that the seeds are safely hidden, biding their 
time until she shall bid them arise. Some are 
enclosed in cradles lined with many folds of silk, 
like those of the milk weed. Other winged seeds 
float on the wind to some distant spot ready to 
strike root in the spring. Still others attach them¬ 
selves to the rough coats of animals and are borne 
onward to their place of rest. 

She examines the tree to see if the leaf buds 
have matured and are well protected against the 
cutting blast and icy sleet. She covers the 
enveloping scales of some with varnish and gives 
to others an overcoat of wool or down. Some buds 
that have hidden all summer in the hollow leaf 
stems must now have a touch of varnish or an 
extra coat. Others that are very small are almost 
buried in the thickened bark of the parent stem. 
She stops the circulation of the sap in the trees, 
when sure that there is enough collected under the 
bark and roots, to preserve the vitality of the 


77 


whole, and sees that plenty of starch and fat are 
stored in the root-stocks of flag, Solomon’s seal, 
etc., that the nuts are slowly loosening their hold 
upon the stem, and the husks drying or cracking 
open so that the first cold blast will rattle them down 
to the ground ready for the squirrel’s use. She pre¬ 
pares, also, the pine needles to resist the cold, by 
depositing a layer of resinous cells on the surface 
forming a coat impervious to rain or frost. Owing 
to their small expanse they are not easily torn 
from the stem by the fierce winds sweeping from 
the frozen north. At the touch of her fingers the 
cones open and scatter their winged seeds to the 
breeze, and the bittersweet decks itself with orange 
and red berries. The hazelnut peeps out from 
between its brown curtains and the chestnuts in 
their prickly pod are patiently waiting for Jack 
Frost to set them at liberty, while the oak has 
already showered its acorns on the ground. But 
Nature’s busy hand is still at work: she paints the 
cheek of the apple, colors and sweetens the grape 
and ripens the corn. In short she puts in the final 
stitches and binds off the web she has been weav¬ 
ing all these sunny months. 


LESSON I. 

If the work begins in September, gather a few 
branches and search for the new leaf buds formed 
during the summer. 



— 78 — 


Begin with a branch of maple, first reviewing 
parts, venation, form, etc., of leaves; then inquire 
what else can be seen growing close to the leaf 
stem, (provided they do not make the discovery 
unaided). It is about the same size of those ex¬ 
amined in early spring, but has not yet received its 
winter coat. Give them a branch of sycamore, 
and encourage a diligent search for the hidden 
buds. Turn the stem about and look as closely as 
they may, no bud appears until one more clever 
than the others, pulls off a leaf and discovers the 
little one. A glance at the hollow leaf stem reveals 
its hiding place. Now compare the sycamore bud 
and leaf with that of the maple. 


LESSON II. 

Give the children branches of sumach next. 
First draw attention to the compound leaf, having 
them count, and determine the arrangement of the 
leaflets. Explain the change of color from green 
to red, shown in most of the leaves. (In fact the 
sumach leaves are the very first red banners of 
autumn). In searching for the buds, they make 
the discovery that they are not only covered by the 
leaf stem, but are deeply sunken in the bark, and 
are smaller than those of the sycajnore. At the 
same time they notice the peculiar bark, thick and 
soft like brown fur; especially if the branches are 
from bushes in exposed situations. 



— 79 — 


LESSON III. 

Examine cottonwood, elm, linden, willow,maple, 
etc., to find out relative position and arrangement 
of buds. 


LESSON LV. 

Examine an oak branch bearing young acorns, 
many species not maturing until the second year. 

For the same lesson gather some of the ripe 
acorns already dropped, and dry nut-galls, the lat¬ 
ter to be studied in connection with the lesson on 
gall flies given in Part III. Manufacture a little 
ink to show one use man makes of these excres- 
ences. Mix a solution of gall powder with one of 
oxalic acid; to this add a few drops of mucilage 
to regulate the flow, and of creosote to keep it 
from moulding ; expose for a few hours to the light, 
and the result will be very good ink. 


LESSON V. 

Study the apple, drawing special attention to the 
blossom end. When all that eyes can see or 
fingers feel has been told concerning the outside, 
cut it across and examine the core or seed-vessel, 
its five divisions forming a star. Note the wavy 
line forming a figure resembling the five pelals of 




— 80 — 


the blossom. This line marks the outer coat of the 
seed-vessel. If the children have had the oppor¬ 
tunity of examining green apples from the time 
they begin to form, the fact that the calyx forms 
the greater part of the apple, will be readily per¬ 
ceived by them. 

Compare with the pear and the quince. 


LESSON VI. 

Compare the apple with the cranberry. Draw 
attention to the minute ring at the end of the berry, 
as this indicates the sepals of the persistent calyx. 

The cross section will show, however, that the 
four-celled ovary and not the calyx forms the prin¬ 
cipal part of the fruit. Describe the cranberry 
plant, its manner of growth, cultivation, etc. 


LESSON VII. 

Study grapes and compare with the apple, to 
give an idea of the difference between a true berry 
and a pome. 


LESSON VIII. 


Compare grapes with oranges and lemons. 
Bring out the similarity in fruits, the orange being 





— 81 — 


a berry with a thick skin. Give the derivation of 
the name hesperidium as applied to the orange, and 
tell the myth of the golden apples of Hesperides. 

Note.—T o show the presence of an inflamable oil in 
the peel, project a few drops across the tip of a caudle 
flame. 


LESSON IX. 

Examine peaches, apricots, plums, etc.., to get 
an idea of stone fruits. 


LESSON X. 

Among the many fruits of autumn, the miljr- 
weed pod forms a most delightful subject for 
study. There are many points of interest to be 
discovered in the pod itself, but when it is opened, 
revealing row after row of flat brown seeds closely 
pressed together, each furnished with long wings 
of silky hairs, compactly folded, the children’s eyes 
dance with delight. Let the opening be enlarged 
never so lightly, and a whole row start as if moved 
by a common impulse. One puff of air and several 
spring up, balance themselves a moment, the silky 
hairs as they expand reflecting all the hues of the 
sunlight; then away they fly in search of a favorable 
spot for germination. If the pods are not quite 
ripe, the whole mass of seeds can be removed 
without disturbing their regular order. 


j 




— 82 — 


Perhaps the children will remember other 
winged seeds observed in May and June, such as 
those of the cottonwood, poplar and willow. 


LESSON XI. 

Study the catalpa pod and compare with the 
milk-weed. Although the two are so different in 
regard to size and form, they are both true pods, 
and have similar seeds. The catalpa seeds, how¬ 
ever, have wings on both sides and these are like a 
bit of silken tissue, rather than a bundle of separ¬ 
ate threads. Observe that one pod is the fruit of 
an herb, the other, of a tree. 


LESSON XII. 

As common examples of capsules, the dry fruit 
of compound pistils, take the wild cucumber, and 
stromonium. Have the vine of the former, bearing 
its scattered fruit to compare with the stiff stem 
and capsules of the latter. Bring out the resem¬ 
blances in the fruit and stem, and then the differ¬ 
ences. Both plants are annuals, hence have 
herbaceous stems, but one trails along the ground 
or climbs a support and the other is erect or self- 
supporting. The pod, or capsule, of the wild 
cucumber is bladdery, with weak prickles and 




— 83 — 


opens at the end, revealing two cells, each contain¬ 
ing one large flat seed. The outer coat is very 
thin and easily torn from the inner one composed 
of a mass of netted fibres. The capsule of the 
stromonium, is hard bearing stiff prickles and 
splits into four valves, although only two-celled. 
The seeds are numerous, and about as large as 
morning-glory seeds. 


LESSON XIII. 

For this lesson, give the children branches of 
hazel, bearing fruit as well as leaves. The nuts 
are hardening and the bed curtains, as the little 
ones call the leafy husks which conceal them, are 
turning brown. If the hazel twigs have been ex¬ 
amined the spring before, remind them of the 
long stamminate tassels covered with yellow pollen 
which fell upon the tiny red style of the pistillate 
flower bud below. After the pollen was gone the 
tassels dropped off, but all summer the little nuts 
have been growing until now you see fulfilled the 
promise of the spring. 


LESSON XIV. 

Examine hickory nuts now while the husk is 
still green, though the divisions begin to separate, 




— 84 — 


and are easily removed by a knife-blade, revealing 
the pale nut within. Compare with the green 
almond if it is possible to procure one, in order to 
show the derivation, or evolution of the peach. If 
the almond is not available, compare the hickory 
nut with the peach. The relation of the former to 
stone fruits is readily perceived, though the outer 
coat of the ovary, or husk of the nut is hard and 
sour instead of sweet and juicy. Bring out 
walnuts, butternuts, etc., to deepen the impressions 
made with the hickory nut. 


LESSON XV. 

Study the chestnut bur, a little later in the 
season, when the frost has opened it. 

To complete the observation of Nature in her 
fall aspect, take the little ones into the woods and 
fields some lovely day in late October, so they can 
gather for themselves the late fruits of herb and 
tree. They will see a world of beauty in every bit 
of Nature’s work, for now their eyes have been 
opened to see her wonders and their ears, to 
understand her secrets. The trees despoiled of 
their summer robes convey no impression of sad¬ 
ness, for have they not innumerable tiny buds 
upon the bare twigs and branches, giving promise 
of abundant foliage in the future? What if the 
flowers are dead and the withered stalks snap and 



— 85 — 


crackle in the wind, are not many new plants 
stored in the seed or folded in the bud of the root- 
stock? And then Nature still has some gifts to 
bestow, for the nuts are rattling down and the wild 
grape tosses its late purple clusters into their out¬ 
stretched hands. With little baskets filled with 
treasures they hasten to relate the story Mother 
Nature has told, to that other nearer and dearer 
mother at home. 


PART THIRD. 


INSECTS. 


CHAPTER I. 


AMONG the twigs and leaves gathered for ex- 
amination, traces of insects or their larvae 
are often found, concerning which numer¬ 
ous questions arise; hence it is advisable to study 
a few common insects in connection with plants. 
We will begin with the gall-flies with whose work 
on the oak we are all familiar. In early spring 
there often appears on the tender shoots of the 
oak, hard excrescences about as large as small 
marbles, which, when opened disclose a tiny egg 
or worm at the center, the larva of the fly called 
Cynips Kollari. Later, other galls, smaller than 
those mentioned above, appear on the leaves or 
stem, which are called currant or berry galls. In 
early June the large gall called oak-apple is formed 
on the leaves or petioles, this being the work of 
Cynips quercusfolii. I have also gathered laro- e 






Gall Insect. Oak Galls. Interior of Gall. 

(Cynips quercus folii.) 



— 87 — 


woolly galls spotted with crimson, which are proba¬ 
bly the nest of another species, called Spathegaster 
tri-color. The female Cynip is a small black fly, 
having an auger rolled spirally under the abdomen, 
with which she pierces the tender plant. A liquid 
ejected at the time the egg is laid, is supposed to 
cause the swelling forming the gall. In other 
words the plant is poisoned as animal flesh is 
poisoned by a sting. The galls used in the manu¬ 
facture of ink are made by a foreign Cynip. The 
apples of Sodom from the Dead Sea are said to be 
a species of oak gall filled with dust and larvae. 
In late summer the oak apple turns dark, often 
spotted with crimson, and in the autumn, as you 
may have noticed after the escape of the perfect 
insect, the gall is dry and filled with fine yellow 
powder. If examined when soft and green, it is 
seen to be composed of an outer and an inner coat 
connected with the center by radiating fibres mixed 
with cellular tissue. 

The soft hairy gall found on the wild rose is 
often called Robin’s cushion. In a bunch of wil¬ 
low twigs one may be found with a badly swollen 
joint beyond which the stem is dead. When cut, 
it is found to be largely composed of yellowish pith 
with a small hollow at the center in which reposes 
a tiny brown case of pupae. Perhaps another 
twig will bear a gall having a small opening 
through which the perfect insect has escaped. 
Still another will have an irregular bunch of with- 


— 88 — 


ered, scale-like leaves like a rosette, or short cone, 
and upon investigation larvae or pupae are discov¬ 
ered not only in the center of the mass but under 
the scales, as the seeds are placed in the pine cone. 
The one in the center is the true householder while 
the others are guests or lodgers; poor relations, it 
may be, or intruders from an enemy’s family who 
by way of thanks for the hospitality they have re¬ 
ceived, eat up some of the numerous cousins. One 
naturalist has stated that as many as twenty-eight 
different species have been found in one of these 
bunches of leaves. The gall maker is probably a 
species of gnat with minute slender body covered 
with long hair, and having wings folded on its 
back. 

All these different insects greatly injure the 
trees or bushes, but the birds manage to destroy 
many of them, by breaking open the gall to secure 
the worm or by eating nest and all. 


LESSON I. 

Let us suppose one of the children has brought 
in a branch of young oak leaves, upon which are a 
number of the berry galls. They look like a bunch 
of green grapes, but who ever saw grapes on an 
oak stem? After looking them all over, and press¬ 
ing them with their fingers, one little fellow who 
always “wants to see the wheels go wound,” asks 



— 80 — 


for a knife with which to cut open one of these 
balls. Perhaps his little fingers can be trusted to 
do this, if not you cut it for him and allow him to 
make his own investigation. He soon discovers 
the inmate of the house, a tiny white something 
coiled in the center. All the other children are 
eager to see it, so you lift it carefully out of its 
nest and place it under a magnifying glass. “It 
moves, it moves,’* one cries with delight, and all 
the others hasten to assure themselves of the fact. 
They can see even its tiny head and perhaps the 
rings on its body; it is very uneasy thus suddenly 
ushered from its darkened nest into the broad light 
of day, and wriggles about a good deal. Other 
galls are opened and in some, is discovered an egg 
instead of a worm, but it is too early yet to find a 
pupa. You can speak of these periods of an 
insect’s life which they may have already observed 
in the butterfly, and keep some of the unopened 
galls for future investigation. 


LESSON II. 

To-day you draw the children’s attention to a 
gall bearing willow stem. They notice the swollen 
joint and the absence of life in the stem beyond, 
but may not suspect the cause until you suggest 
cutting through the joint; then they begin to 
understand the character of the disease. Instead 



— 90 — 


of a tiny egg or wriggling worm, however, there 
appears in the center of this mass of dead wood, a 
yellow or brown pupa which has been sleeping all 
through the winter. ’Tis not yet ready to come 
out of its case, and lies motionless unless aroused 
by the warmth of your hand. Another twig bear¬ 
ing the same kind of gall is laid aside to await the 
exit of the perfect insect. In comparing this gall 
with that of the oak, you bring out the fact that 
the one on the willow must have been made the 
year before, when the wood was fresh and soft, 
and the egg laid then. You now show them the 
other kind of gall found in a bunch of leaves which, 
thus stunted in their growth, now resemble a dry 
cone, with which they compare it. Many yellowish 
pupae resembling slender seeds are shaken out 
from between the scales, and closely examined 
under a magnifying glass; but the host having his 
special apartment in the center is not so easily 
found. He may have fallen a prey to his unwel¬ 
come visitors while yet in his infancy. Indeed 
these intruders are often called cuckoo-worms be¬ 
cause their character is so like that of the cuckoo. 
If the cone is destitute of larvae or pupae, you infer 
they have gone down to the ground to sleep, or 
have been eaten by the birds. 

Note—T he perfect insect may be a species of 
Cecidomyia, resembling gnats, or a species of saw-fly, 
the larvae of which resemble caterpillars, and the pupae 
are encased in cocoons. 


5 



Occellate Leaf Gall of Red Maple. 



Larva found in the Gall. 



Pupa emerging from its ease. 
From Report of Entymologist C. V. Riley. 





















' 





























....... 










— 91 — 


LESSON III. 

RED-MAPLE GALL. 

Perhaps in early summer some child brings a 
stem of maple leaves curiously affected and asks 
for infornmation in regard to it. The leaves are 
covered with raised discs, having a bright red mar¬ 
gin and a central dot. At the center of each spot 
on the upper side of the leaf is an elevated portion, 
and underneath this, is a little pit, the hollow of 
the gall. This hollow is covered with a larval skin, 
tightly attached to the leaf, and some skill is re¬ 
quired to remove it. Underneath is found a broad 
oval, transluceut, colorless worm, with distinct 
head bearing short antennae, and on each segment 
of the body is a tiny spine pointing backward. 
Some full grown larvae may be seen moving rapidly 
down the stems of the leaves, making an effort to 
reach the ground, beneath the surface of which 
they complete their transformation into pupae. 
By shaking the leaves over a box of sand we may 
be able in the future to obtain and examine the 
pupa in its case of silk. 

According to Riley, to whom we owe the dis¬ 
covery of the insect making these galls, the cocoon 
is so covered with particles of sand adhering to it, 
that it is not easily distinguished from the earth in 
which it lies. He declares the adult insect to be a 
fly belonging to the genus Sciari, (Order Diptera.) 
Some years nearly all maples have their foliage 


— 92 — 


destroyed by these larvae though its favorite tree is 
the red maple. Another species infests the young 
lindens growing in shady places. Its larvae are 
lemon-yellow, leap like cheese maggots and pro¬ 
duces galls the size of peas. 


CHAPTER II. 


GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE LIPIDOPTERA. 


T HIS branch of the insect world is divided 
into two classes called butterflies and moths. 
Those of the first class, generally fly by 
day, have club-shaped antennae, and four wings 
standing perpendicularly when the insect is at rest. 
The body is slender and contracted between the 
thorax and the abdomen. 

The second class comprise those which fly by 
night or at twilight, and have antennae more or 
less enlarged in the middle or before the extremi¬ 
ties. The body of the moth is much larger in 
proportion than that of the butterfly and not con¬ 
tracted between the thorax and the abdomen. 
The wings are horizontal or nearly so, when the 
insect is at rest, the upper ones then covering the 
lower ones which are comparatively short and, in 
the case of the males slightly attached to the first. 

The pupae of moths and nocturnal butterflies 
are conical, while those that fly by day, are angu¬ 
lar, and often beautifully marked. 




LESSON I. 


Most kindergartners are familiar with the beau¬ 
tiful Saturnia moth whose cocoon is often found 
upon the willow tree, and generally secure several 
specimens for the entertainment and instruction of 
the children. The perfect insect makes its exit in 
early spring if kept in a warm room and always 
finds numerous friends to welcome it. Do not call 
it a butterfly, however, though it differs from most 
of its class in flying by day instead of by night. 
’Tis well to lead even the little children to distin¬ 
guish between these two branches of the Lepi- 
doptera. Notice the large hairy body of this 
moth, its comparatively slow motions, and position 
of the wings when poised over a flower or resting 
on any support. Later, when familiar with the 
characteristics of true butterflies, the children will 
note these differences. The resemblances, of 
course are seen first, not only in form and similar 
phases of existence, but in length of life, kind of 
food, etc., just now however, only the moth is under 
consideration. 

Examine the empty cocoon, and at one end is 
found the cast-off skin of the larva, “the old 
clothes, as the children call it. Compare the 
inner, with the outer coat of the cocoon and test 
the strength of the different fiberes, by pulling and 
cutting. Notice the fibers around the opening and 
see if you can determine how the moth made its 


95 — 


way out. The larvae of the Saturnia enter the 
pupa state in the fall. I hope many children will 
have such an opportunity as had those of a kinder¬ 
garten in my charge five or six years ago. An 
older brother of one of the little boys had several 
of the large larvae, (which are green with longi¬ 
tudinal rows of red projecting points,) feeding on 
the leaves of a willow tree, and when appearances 
indicated that they were ready to spin their 
cocoons, we all adjourned to view the proceedings. 
As the tree was small and the caterpillars were on 
the lowest branches, all the observations were con¬ 
ducted from an advantageous standpoint; the 
youngest in the audience being mounted on boxes 
or in somebody’s arms. The whole spectacle was 
immensely interesting and there was no failure on 
the part of any actor to do the part assigned him. 
Some were just drawing out a few preliminary 
threads, others were writhing and twisting their 
long bodies as they wound about them the first 
frail threads of their silken shrouds, and still others 
were already partly concealed by a veil of mist, 
their green coats giving a tinge of color to the web. 
One or two had entirely disappeared in a beautiful 
soft cocoon of pure white. The protector of all 
these little spinners, graciously allowed us to 
remove one of those last mentioned, to the kinder¬ 
garten room, to be examined the next day at our 
1 isure; but when that time had arrived the cocoon 
was entirely completed, and no longer soft and 


— 96 — 


white, but brown and hard. We laid the sleeper 
away to await the coming of spring, while its com¬ 
panions, tightly fastened to the branches of the 
willow, slept just as securely though their cradles 
were tossed by rude winds, exposed to rain and 
snow. 


While the children have been examining the 
cocoon, the moth has been making its first flight 
around the room, but it is easily caught and sub¬ 
jected to a more careful observation than they 
ventured to make upon its first appearance. Its 
fringed antennae, and thick, closely feathered body, 
with its divisions of thorax and jointed abdomen 
excite as much interest as the beautiful colors and 
markings of the wings. 


ADDITIONAL FACTS CONCERNING CHRYSALIDES. 

Chrysalides are sometimes found upon the 
ground or beneath the surface, some entirely des¬ 
titute of cocoons, others inclosed in a debris of 
leaves joined together by a few threads. I have 


c 



Humming-bird Hawk-Moth 









— 97 — 


often found in freshly turned garden soil, the pupa 

of the large green tomato worm, encased in a hard 

shiny-brown skin, the long proboscis bent over in 

such a way that the whole resembled a pitcher, the 

proboscis forming the handle. The cocoon of 

dead leaves may hold the pupa of a sphinx or hawk 

moth; if yellowish-brown with bristles on the 

abdominal rings, it is the pupa of the elephant 

hawk month, common in gardens during June. 

Another of the hawk moths comes from a bright 

© 

chestnut-brown pupa buried in the earth. 

One of the pupae found in a cocoon made of 
leaf debris, may be that of the beautiful humming 
bird moth so often seen hovering over the flowers 
in early twighlight. This pupa is light gray, dot¬ 
ted with brown and striped with black. Its skin 
is so thin that one can perceive the transformations 
from the pupa to the moth. These moths are seen 
all through the summer and are often mistaken for 
humming birds. 

Sometimes one finds upon the oak trees in May 
a boat-shaped cocoon composed of two triangular 
blades which the insect, Pyralis corticalis, has 
made of tiny bits of bark, drawn together by 
threads of silk, the whole being two-thirds of an 
inch long. Perhaps upon the same tree may be 
found some of the leaf rollers at work; their nests 
are well worthy of study, and will bear comparison 
with similar work done by human hands. Notice 
the regularity of the roll and the way it is fastened 


4 


— 98 — 


and secured to the surface of the leaf. Within the 
roll reposes the lava or the pupa. Think of the 
immense damage done by these little leaf rollers, 
especially by the Vine Pyralis, so destructive in 
vineyards. Curious bunches of rolled leaves, 
bound together like a sheaf, are often found on 
certain willows, and in the center of this cylindrical 
box lies the caterpillar. The trunk of the willow 
and other trees is sometimes pierced with numer¬ 
ous borings made by the large larvae of the goat 
moth. The caterpillar lives in one of these chan¬ 
nels, and here passes into the pupa state. A large 
piece of petrified wood containing several burrows, 
each filled with larva or pupa in the same condition 
as the wood, was once brought into the class room 
during a talk on mineralogy addressed to the train¬ 
ing class. 


LESSON II. 

PIERIS BRASIC^E or pieris rap^e. 

These common white butterflies, called cabbage 
butterflies, flitting about the plants in field and 
garden, are favorite objects of pursuit among 
children, and as they pass rapidly through the 
different stages of existence, are well adapted for 
study in the kindergarten or school-room. The 
caterpillar of Pieris brasicse is of a yellowish green, 
with three yellow longitudinal stripes, between 






Work of a Leaf Roller 



— 99 — 


which are little black points crowned with whitish 
hairs. They live in groups on cabbages and other 
cruciferous plants, and consume in one day more 
than double their size, as ascertained by Reamur. 
The butterfly is dull white spotted and veined with 
black. Its cousin, the Pieris rapae, differs from it 
in size but is very similar to it in other respects. 
The caterpillar is often found on nasturtium and 
mignonette as well as on the cabbage, turnip, etc. 
It is green with three yellow lines and forces its 
way between closely pressed leaves, hence is often 
called the heart worm. 

Having procured a larva from the cabbage bed 
you transport it together with a few leaves of its 
favorite plant, to a cigar box across the top of 
which has been stretched a piece of coarse wire 
netting. Box and all are carried to the kindergar¬ 
ten room to enable the children to witness the 
various phases of insect life. When the time 
comes for the little talk on natural history, you lift 
a corner of the netting and carefully remove the 
caterpillar with the bit of leaf then furnishing it 
a meal. The children observe it closely, noting 
its color, stripes, etc., counting the rings in its 
body and comparing it to the tiny worm found 
in the galls. They note the number of legs and 
the difference between the three pairs of true legs 
on the fore part, (first three segments) and the 
four pairs of fleshy ones on the middle segments. 
They also notice that the caterpillar when eating 


— 100 — 



the edge of a leaf embraces it tightly between these 
fleshy feet and stretches itself out straight to 
make the first bite, and at each fresh bite the head 
approaches the legs in such a manner that a curve 
is formed as the leaf is cut away. Perhaps they 
can also detect the movement of its jaws, and as 
they see how rapidly the leaf disappears, will 
get an idea of the ravages these caterpillars may 
commit in a garden patch. The larva is now 
replaced in the box to finish gormandizing and in 
time, to pass through all transformations. Bright 
eyes watch its daily progress, however, and per¬ 
haps may catch it in the act of moulting or shedding 
its skin, if the caterpillar is not in the last stages of 
larval growth. It stops eating and becomes languid 
for a day or two. Its color fades and the skin dries. 
Now is the time to watch the process of casting off 
the old suit. It arches its back, and cracks 
the skin, but continues these exertions until the 
crack is wide enough to allow it to pull the upper 
part over its head, and then soon wriggles itself 
free at the other end. All this work, however, is 
very tiresome and the caterpillar has to rest for a 
few hours before it is ready to begin work again. 
By-and-by, as the pupa stage approaches, our little 
friend again grows dull and pale, and refuses all 
food. The contents of the intestines are ejected; 
then the caterpillar moves about now and then 
stretching silken threads on different parts of the 
box, until a suitable place is found for its suspen- 



1. Caterpillar of Pieris Brassicse. 

2. Pupa of Pieris Brassicte. 




— 101 — 


sion during the long sleep. At this stage of the 
proceedings the children are eagerly watching its 
movements and great anxiety is manifested lest the 
work be completed during their absence. About 
thirty hours are required, however, to perfect the 
chryalis, and you feel certain of witnessing the fin¬ 
ishing touches the next morning. It will be noticed 
that this kind of caterpillar does not spin a regular 
cocoon, but supports itself by a few threads, 
while the skin hardens, forming a case, within 
which the perfect insect gradually develops. Three 
weeks pass away before the children’s eyes are 
gladdened by the advent of the pretty little butter¬ 
fly. How eagerly they watch it as its wings grad¬ 
ually unfold and the joyous creature makes its 
first aerial voyage, stopping now and then to sip 
from the flowers thoughtfully provided for its 
refreshment. 


SUGGESTIONS. 

Woolly caterpillars are often seen in late sum¬ 
mer moving about in search of a suitable place in 
which to prepare for change into a chrysalis. Pro¬ 
cure one or more to observe the use it makes of its 


- — 102 — 


liair in forming the cocoon. Some species pull out 
the hairs, others cut them, as is the case with the 
Woolly Bear. As these caterpillars are distin¬ 
guished by their hair, upon opening the case before 
transformation has begun, one cannot recognize 
the inmate as the same caterpillar. 

Of course the cocoon of the silk worm is the 
most beautiful and perfect, the common ones being 
either white or yellow as all know, but Figuier 
states that “ one race of worms reared in Tuscany 
make rose-colored cocoons, and mention has been 
made of purple ones.” 

One summer, a three-year-old boy brought me 
a blade of grass to which was attached a bundle of 
tiny empty cocoons, as perfect in form, lustre and 
color, as those of the silk worm, while a raised lid 
at one end revealed the mode of exit. Upon exam¬ 
ining them through the magnifying glass, the child 
called them “bug cradles.” 

If possible procure a number of butterfly chrys¬ 
alides to compare with those of moths. The early 
caterpillars of the small Tortoise Shell butterfly 
change into pupm at the end of May or first of 
June and are usually found suspended from the 
projecting woodwork of barns, houses, fences, etc. 
the perfect insects emerging about a month later. 

Sometimes the change takes place in fourteen 
days, hence they furnish an excellent model for 
the study of the various transformations of insects. 
I hey belong to the Vanessidse and their specific 



Large Tortoise-shell Butterfly. 



Larva and Chrysalis of the same. 









— 103 — 


name is Vanessa urticacse, as the larvse live and 
feed upon the sting nettle. If you should discover 
one or more black prickly caterpillars marching 
away from its home on the nettle, secure it at once, 
so as to watch its curious preparations for the 
change into a butterfly. 


CHAPTER III 


W HEN studying the various fruits of autumn, 
the children will discover that these also, 
are often infested by the larvae of insects. 
Perhaps one of the apples brought for lunch will 
contain the pinkish-white larva of the Codlin moth 
nestled at the core, while another will be pierced 
by the burrow made by the worm in its escape. 
This little larva, however, takes but a small part of 
the fruit and leaves the rest intact, while the apple 
maggot is not so easily satisfied; although destitute 
of feet, it feeds in all directions, making numerous 
tunnels before leaving its sweet abode, thus ruining 
the fruit for others. But, one child wants to know 
how the worm got into the apple at first, for he can 
find no opening on the outside. In the first case, 
the fruit was as round and smooth as perfect apples, 
hence the inference is that the mamma moth laid 
the egg in the center of the blossom or very young 
apple. The worm when hatched worked its way 
to the core of the green fruit and remained there 
while the apple was growing. Sharp eyes ma}^ find 
a trace of this opening at the blossom end. The 
apple in which we find the maggot is a little im¬ 
perfect in outline; one side has a depression, the 



— 105 — 


center of which is hard and dry. When cut open, 
we can trace the connection between this hard spot 
and the center of the fruit. It is evident that the 
mamma (a black fly banded with white) pierced 
the green apple and deposited her egg, much as 
the gall fly does in leaf or stem. The wild crab 
apples are more generally affected by this insect, 
than cultivated fruit, and are often distorted into 
very curious shapes. 

Everyone is familiar with the premature ripening 
of plums, grapes, etc., when pierced by insects. 
How strange that the liquid injected at the time 
the eggs are laid should so change the nature of 
the sap! Perhaps the larva needs the sweet juices 
of the ripened fi;uit, and so the mother thus hastens 
the processes of nature. Sometimes, as when vines 
are attacked by the Vine Pyralis, we see that not 
only the vine, but the fruit as well, is almost 
entirely destroyed. Whole bunches of grapes are 
often reduced to empty skins through their rav¬ 
ages. Birds, too, are fond of grapes, but we can 
well afford to give them all they want in return for 
their aid in the destruction of insects. The tiny 
caterpillar may kill the whole plant, whereas the 
bird takes only a little fruit now and then. Even 
the quarrelsome, greedy sparrow does immense 
service in the park and garden, though he is noisy 
and troublesome in many ways. 

Among the nuts gathered in our autumn ramble, 
some are found with small holes through which a 


— 106 — 


worm has crawled—acorns, hickory nuts, walnuts, 
all kinds of nuts seem to be infested by them—and 
often nothing is left but an empty shell. Perhaps 
half of the acorns we brought from the woods early 
in the season, sound and firm though they may 
have been then, are now crumbling or filled with 
powdered, woody fiber. The children are amazed 
at the change and search diligently for the author 
of this destruction. To think that each one of 
these nuts had in its heart, a tiny worm, growing fat 
on the nourishment stored up for the embryo oak. 

’ Tis well the parent tree bears such a multitude of 
acorns, else the great oak forests would soon be 
no more. 

The larva found in nuts and grains is that of a wevil 
peculiar to the plant. 


ANTS AND APHIDES. 

A little six-year-old boy of my acquaintance 
when on a visit to our home, became intensely 
interested in ants. One day, his attention being 
drawn to a branch of woodbine up and down whose 
stem these insects were hurrying, apparently in 
search of something, he procured a magnifying 
glass by the aid of which he discovered the aphides 
or plant lice, and noticed that they seemed to pos¬ 
sess some attraction for the ants. The latter would 
caress them with their antennae and were not ap- 




Section of an Ant Hill 







































— 107 — 


parently, repulsed or feared by the aphides. I 
drew his attention to the little horn-like projections 
on the back of these insects, and to the tiny drop of 
liquid exuded from them which was eagerly sought 
by the ants, and told him that some naturalists 
have discovered that ants sometimes carry these 
plant lice to their hills, where they feed and suck 
them ; therefore some have called them the ants’ 
cows. He was much delighted with all he saw and 
heard, and the next day I heard him calling to 
some boys who were passing, to come in and see 
the ants’ cows. Never having heard of such curi¬ 
ous creatures, they rejected the invitation with 
scorn. Poor fellows! They were not trained in 
the kindergarten and knew nothing of the wonder¬ 
ful revelations of nature to patient observers. 

Let us suppose the children of the school or 
the kindergarten are out in field or garden search¬ 
ing for insects or larvm. Suddenly one espies 
numerous ants traveling up and down a leafy 
branch of vine or shrub, and calls the others to 
come and look. Evidently, the insects are search¬ 
ing for something, and are so much absorbed in 
their pursuit that I can break off the branch and 
lay it in a convenient place for observation without 
alarming them. Each child examines the stem 
and leaves with the magnifying glass and soon 
detects the aphides bunched together, almost 
motionless and busily sucking the juices of the 
plant. The tubes on the back are plainly seen and 


— 108 


perhaps one or more of the children may see an ant 
caressing one of the aphides and greedily sucking up 
the drop of sugary liquid exhuding from the tubes. 
Other ants are running about in search of the 
drops already deposited on the leaves. That a 
friendly feeling exists between these two classes of 
insects is very evident for the ant treats its tiny 
cow with the greatest tenderness and the aphide 
yields its sweetness when pressed by the antenae of 
the other. The next thing to attract atten¬ 
tion is an ant hill and we stop to watch the ener¬ 
getic little workers, each bringing out a grain 
which it deposits on the hill and quickly goes back 
for another. So fast they move that they seem to 
tumble over each other, but there is no contention 
and no dilly-dallying about the work. Let me 
sprinkle a few grains of sugar near by, in the 
path of the foraging members of the community, 
and in a second two or three are on the spot, test 
the material, and rejoicing in this unexpected 
feast, send word to those working on the hill. All 
the masons answer the summons and soon every 
ant is eagerly sucking the sugar. So engrossed 
are they, that I can lift some of the sugared dirt 
on a broad knifeblade and give the children a 
chance to see the sucking ants under the magnfy- 
ing glass. They are as greedy as little pigs are in 
drinking buttermilk. When filled to repletion, 
each one picks up a grain and carries it down into 
the nest, perhaps for the use of the nurses and 


— 109 — 


nurselings, and the building, (or excavating rather) 
does not progress much until the sugar is disposed 
of in some way. The next day we go again to the 
garden and -visit another, larger ant hill. An 
inch or so away is a very small opening with little 
earth around it and through this two or three 
black ants come out and rush distractedly away. 
Close observation reveals the fact that the main 
entrance is besieged by a multitude of russet col¬ 
ored ants. Something unusual is going on, so we 
stop to investigate. Now and then the besiegers 
move back a little and we see that they are pushed 
backward by the fierce onslaught of black ants 
within the nest. We are witnesses of a genuine 
battle between a race of slave-holding ants and 
another whose larvre, and eggs they wish to secure 
for future slaves. I comfort the children with the 
assurance that this race is kind to its slaves, and 
men who have spent years in studying their habits, 
declare that the slaves are devoted to their masters 
and that the nurses who have charge of the larva* 
will follow after them when they are captured. 
As the battle continues to rage with no decided 
advantage on either side, we return to our other 
work promising to renew observations in an hour 
or so. When we again visit the field of battle, we 
find the besiegers are giving way. Little by little 
they retreat overwhelmed by the fierce attacks of 
their tiny foes. At last a retreat is ordered; the 
invading ants retire to their own nest while the 


— 110 — 


children hasten homeward eager to tell all the 
wonderful things they have seen and heard. 

The next day, as all are apxious to discover 
more of the ants and their ways, we again adjourn 
to the garden. When we reach the scene of yes¬ 
terday's battle, great is our astonishment to per¬ 
ceive that another is raging between the same 
forces. The russets have returned and it is evi¬ 
dent that they have taken the black ants by sur¬ 
prise, for their enemies are forcing themselves into 
the nest. The defenders are soon overwhelmed 
and the besiegers rush through the different gal¬ 
leries in search of their prey. In a few seconds 
they rush out bearing eggs or larvae in their 
mouths, followed by a few of the black ants, 
who seem to be the nurses. We infer this from 
the fact that they do not attack those carrying off 
their nurslings, but follow submissively as if 
already members of the enemy’ household. The 
remnant of black ants rush aimlessly about for 
awhile and then begin the w r ork of repairing their 
shattered habitation, and caring for the few babies 
overlooked in the rapid pillage. After watching 
and admiring their courage and industry for awhile, 
we sit down on a convenient grass plot, while I 
tell the children of the wonderful discoveries made 
by Huber and others who spent years in studying 
this branch of insect life. Their organization into 
different classes, each with its own department of 
work; the perfect understanding and good will 


— Ill 


existing between all classes; the care taken of the 
sick and wounded; their wisdom, courage and per¬ 
severance, etc. ; all these things and more which 
entitle them to the respect and admiration of the 
wisest of human beings. I also mention the ex¬ 
periences of casual observers, one being that of a 
miner who tried to keep them out of his syrup 
pitcher by attaching it to a long cord suspended 
from the ceiling. All in vain were his precautions ; 
one day he saw an ant crawl up the wall of his 
cabin, along the ceiling, then down the string to 
the syrup pitcher. Having tasted its contents he 
returned the way he had come, unmolested, as the 
miner wished to observe the result. In a few mo¬ 
ments, a long column of ants traveled over the 
same road and were soon surfeiting themselves 
with the syrup. Of course all the children agree 
that the first ant rushed off to inform his fellows 
and lead them to his discovered mine of sweetness, 
but the question arises, “how did he tell?” We 
look again at the busy workers and notice that one 
ant meeting another going in an opposite direction 
sometimes touches his antennae to the other’s, and 
appears to communicate something in this way, for 
the second one turns and follows in the same 
direction. We repeat the experiment of scattering 
a few grains of sugar in the presence of one or two 
ants and are soon satisfied that they impart the 
good news to others by means of their antennae. 

The following day, I tell the children the story 


— 112 — 


entitled, “ Tales of the Formica,” and let them 
guess the real character of the people described. 
The incidents mentioned in connection with the 
battles and foraging expeditions are established 
facts if we trust the testimony of such patient 
observers as Huber, Dupont de Nemours, and 
others. 

If time permits, I carry out the study of insects 
so as to include the bee, the house fly and the 
spider. 

For a delightful book of reference, use the illus¬ 
trated edition of “ Figuier’s Insect World.” 


CONCLUSION. 


THE HUMAN BODY: AND A FEW SUGGESTIONS AS TO 
THE METHOD OF CONNECTING ITS STUDY 
WITH OTHER DEPARTMENTS OF 
NATURAL HISTORY. 

“ hike the tabernacle, it rests upon the dust of the 
earth. It was created out of the earth and speedily 
returns to it again. Its foundation is laid in the mineral 
kingdom. Man is first of all a mineral; the foot of that 
ladder whose top reaches to the throne of heaven, rests 
upon the naked rock. The limestone of the earth gives 
solidity to his bones; the iron of the earth gives the rich 
color to his cheek and lips, and tints his hair; the phos¬ 
phorus of the earth enters also into the fluctuating walls 
of his flesh. The very core and center of the brain itself, 
the place where Des Cartes supposed the soul to be, is a 
crystalline mass of mineral matter, so that the wheels 
of thought revolve on a jeweled pivot of the mineral 




— 113 — 


kingdom. While on the inner wall of the utricle and 
saccule of the ear, at the point where the nerves spread 
out upon them, is a minute quantity of white powder, 
each particle of which under the microscope is a little 
prismatic crystal and appears to be in some way con¬ 
nected with the termination of the nerve filament.” 

Dr. Hugh Macmillan. 


One chapter in Agassiz’s Zoology opens with 
this statement, u Omnes ex ovo sunt.” Though we 
cannot declare this to be the case in the mineral 
world, there is one point of resemblance in the fact 
that one crystal forms the nucleus around which 
others cluster, while the germ cell of plant, or animal 
developes into many others, thus building up the 
whole. The egg, or the seed is but the germ case. 
The relation or mutual dependence of the three 
kingdoms is readily perceived by the child, and 
tracing out this relation is a source of great pleas¬ 
ure and wonder. How he delights to discover the 
flinty structure of the wheat stalk and the beard of 
grain ; to follow up the process of grinding the ker¬ 
nels into flour; to watch the manufacture of bread ; 
and finally to eat of this bread with the thought 
present to his mind that this will become the bone 
and muscle af his own body, thus uniting his mate¬ 
rial part, first to the vegetable, and then to the 
mineral kingdom. Nature assumes a new phase. 
Mother earth is no fable of mythology; contact 
with her imparts new strength and courage. At 



— 114 — 


this time I often allow the little ones to make 
bread, first with unbolted flour and with no leaven 
or salt. They mix it themselves and it is usually 
baked for them before the session is over. The 
result would not be very gratifying to professional 
cooks but is eminently so to the children. The 
next day we add salt and yeast and note the ad¬ 
vantages derived from these additions, as well as 
the various changes produced in the dough. If 
time and circumstances permit, we repeat the work 
with white flour explaining the process of bolt¬ 
ing. This lesson is followed by the relation of 
Miss Alcott’s story of “Candy, Ginger-bread and 
Bread Land,” to show in an amusing way, the 
difference between sweets and substantials. 

If this is the time of year for the study of 
plants, we take up corn in the same way. In com¬ 
paring it with the wheat they notice the presence of 
silica in this grain also, detected by rubbing the 
finger along the edge of the leaf or a cut portion of 
the stem. 

We review the truths learned in studying the 
germinating corn and again remove the embryo 
from the surrounding starch. The children also 
make corn-bread, at the same time listening to the 
story of “How one little girl wished to make corn- 
bread, beginning at the very beginning.” 

The next day we find out the presence of lime 
in the bones, by placin t one in dilute hydrochloric 
acid. Effervescence begins immediately and in a 


— 115 — 


day or two the mineral is all removed and the bone 
becomes like gristle. Another bone, such as the 
round bone of a steak, is first burned black in the 
fire, to show the change of animal substance into 
charcoal, and then burned white, leaving only the 
mineral. Before testing the latter in acid, we ex¬ 
amine the beautiful lace-like structure of the cen¬ 
tral portion, and compare it with a fresh piece. 
An egg is then brought out and the mineral of the 
shell determined by dropping it into dilute acid. 
The effervescence is very rapid, and the gelatinous 
substance of the shell floats on top of the liquid in 
flakes of greenish albumen; and we recall the fact 
that a bit of star fish in acid gave the same 
results. 

The children have now learned, not only the fact 
of their relation to the mineral world, but through 
what agencies this relation is established. They 
realize more fully their dependence upon nature 
and upon the Father, whose loving hand prepared 
the seed, the earth which nourishes it, and the air, 
the rain and the sunshine so necessary for growth. 
Mind and heart expand in this study of the mate¬ 
rial world and the brain itself, builds up, and 
strengthens its soft fabric to facilitate the advance 
of thought. 

“ The breath of God animates man’s frame, but 
the ashes of the earth circulate through it. The 
light of the stars is on his brow, but the dust of 
the earth cleaves to his feet.” The earth gives of 


— 116 — 


her substance to feed her children, but demands 
something in return and all organisms return to the 
elements from whence they came. In endless suc¬ 
cession pass the various forms of life each in turn 
adding its little portion to the banking fund of 
nature. We must do something for the material 
world though we neglect the demands of the spirit¬ 
ual being. There is no idler in the world of 
nature. Every atom of dust and every grain of 
sand; the fallen leaf, the trees, the animals that 
roam the forest, the water that washes the shore 
and the ice upon the mountain top;—all are fellow 
workers in the cause of nature. They are links 
of the same chain with, man the clasp that binds 
the whole. 


Stories for the Children: 


As Told in the Kindergarten. 


“The real is but the half of life; it needs the 
ideal to make a perfect whole; 

The sphere of sense is incomplete and pleads 
For closer union with the sphere of soul.” 




Story of the Frost Giants. 


Far away in the frozen north, where dwells 
rough Boreas the north wind, lived Ymir, the first 
and greatest of the frost giants. On the top of the 
loftiest mountain stood his beautiful palace, made 
of blocks of clearest ice. Its lofty towers, from 
whose summits streamed long banners of silvery 
mist, sparkling in the sunlight or bathed in the 
silvery light of the moon, gleamed through the flit¬ 
ting clouds, as airy and beautiful as the palace of 
the fairy queen. Nothing built by man was ever 
half so lovely. Here lived the giant all alone ex¬ 
cept for the ice fairies who flitted hither and 
thither, sketching dainty pictures on the walls, 
fluting the pillars which supported the lofty ceil¬ 
ings and twining them with garlands of ice flowers. 
Here and there stood great beautiful carved vases, 
which the fairies filled with masses of ferns, and 
great white lillies, all of the same pure material. 

The only sound that broke the stillness of this 
lovely palace, was the musical tinkle of the fairies’ 
footfalls on the glassy floor. No windows appear¬ 
ed in the walls, but a pale blue light sifted through 
the blocks of ice and revealed the interior. Out- 



— 119 — 


side the palace, extended a great ice terrace, 
bounded by low walls of broken stone. No tree 
nor shrub, no trailing vines, no mosses nor delicate 
flowers appeared on the glittering surface of the 
vast terrace. Beautiful to the eye, but Oh, how 
cold, was this home of the frost giant! 

Ymir, would have been very happy here if it 
had not been for the fact that the dominions of his 
bitter enemy, Auster the south wind, bordered 
his own and embraced nearly all the rest of the 
earth. He was in constant dread of this powerful 
neighbor, and often imagined when walking on his 
terrace, that he felt the warm breath of his enemy 
on his cheek. Sometimes he heard the murmur of 
little rills, and knew that the terrace of ice was 
yielding to the influence of the summer heat and 
that its waters formed the torrent rushing down 
into the valley. All this he considered, was due to 
the proximity of his hot-blooded enemy and many 
a plan he pondered, for driving Auster farther to 
the south, and for building a massive wall of ice to 
prevent his return. 

One day when his enemy was in a distant part 
of his realm looking after the late fruits of summer, 
Ymir sallied out in a glittering suit of armor woven 
by the ice fairies, who also went ahead to spread 
an ice carpet on the line of march, for his strength 
would fail should his feet touch the warm earth. 
As he advanced down the mountain slope and into 
the valley, all the animals fled before him. The 


— 120 — 


trees shook “in the breath of his nostrils/’ and at 
his touch the leaves shriveled and fell to the ground. 
The herbs were buried under the advancing carpet 
of ice, the rivers stiffened in their beds, and the 
sunlight gleamed faintly through the snowy vapors 
which enveloped him. All plants and animals call¬ 
ed on Auster to deliver them from Ymir’s icy 
breath. But it was not until the mantle of snow 
and ice had covered a large part of our country 
that Auster responded to the call. Perhaps he had 
been sleeping, or, secure in his power to hold his 
own, had allowed the frost giant to advance so far 
within his borders, and away from home supplies. 
Already the ice fairies were beginning to weary of 
their task, for the warm earth melted, the ice almost 
as fast as formed. Ymir had grown so bold that 
he had determined upon conquering the whole of 
Auster’s realm, so stopped not to build a wall to 
fortify his own dominions, although he carried on 
the ice long lines of stones to use in case of an 
emergency. Now, however, it was too late to make 
any ramparts to protect himself from Auster speed¬ 
ing swiftly to the rescue of his own sunny realm. 
The snow-clouds fled before him, the ice melted 
under his feet, and torrents of water rushed down 
the hillsides and through the plains scattering 
abroad the stones borne on the surface of the 
glacier. Little lakes and big lakes studded the 
country o’er, and Ymir had to move rapidly north¬ 
ward in order to escape destruction. Still followed 


— 121 — 


Auster, however, until they reached the foot of the 
mountain upon which stood the ice palace, when 
the giant turned to battle with his foe. With pale 
yellow-locks streaming in the wind, clear blue eyes 
sparkling with the cold lustre of sunlit snow, which 
dazzles, but does not warm, his tall form clad in 
its armor of ice, Ymir presented a striking contrast 
to his foe. Auster had ruddy cheeks and brown 
skin, and his reddish yellow-locks and soft brown 
eyes shone with the fire of sunlight. No armor 
impeded his movements, and no weapon was in his 
hand. He easily dodged the rocks hurled at his 
head by the giant’s mighty hand, and lightly spring¬ 
ing forward, with a smile of conscious power, 
seized Ymir around the waist. In vain the giant 
struggled to release himself or deal his enemy a 
fatal blow. His strength vanished in the warmth 
of Auster’s embrace, while his armor and the ice 
on which they stood melted under his fragrant 
breath and warm feet. In vain the ice fairies 
wrapped fresh snow-clouds around their master 
and his foe. In vain, again and again they wove 
with lightning speed the ice carpet, for it melted 
away as fast as formed, and in despair they fled 
to the mountain top, as Ymir dissolved away and 
sank into a deep depression in the rocks, his liquid 
body thus forming a well of ice cold water reflect¬ 
ing the sky above it. Buried in the depths of this 
icy well, according to the old legend, wisdom and 
wit lie hidden, and here the modern frost giants 


— 122 — 


have slaked their thirst and drawn inspiration. 
Though conquered himself, Ymir has taught others 
how to resist the one who destroyed him, and in 
spite of yearly struggles with his old foe, they are 
never destroyed. 

On the snowy summits of the Alps and on the 
lofty peaks of the Rocky Mountains and the Ne- 
vadas dwell the frost giants of to-day. Each has 
his own territory, but every year strives to snatch 
away from the south wind a portion of his realm. 
In late summer, while Auster still rules in the great 
plains, the little valleys among the hills, and the 
southern slopes of the mountains; while the corn 
still waves its green banners in salutation as its 
loved king passes by and the grass spreads a vel¬ 
vety carpet for his feet; while golden-rod and 
sunflower turn their glowing faces to receive his 
caress ; while the apples and the grapes are rejoic¬ 
ing in the touch of his hands and lips;—even then 
the giant on the mountain top, now rested from his 
useless struggle of the spring, comes out of his 
palace, and looking over the peaceful scene, blows 
such a blast of defiance that the whole air shivers 
and rushing downward gives warning of the threat¬ 
ened approach of the dreaded frost giant. The 
trees tremble at the news, the corn hurries to ripen 
its ears, and the apples begin to drop off as a hint 
to the thrifty farmer that it is time to gather and 
store away his winter supplies. The squirrel and 
the woodpecker look about for snug quarters in 


— 123 — 


some hospitable tree, and the mountain bear hies 
to his cave. 

The inhabitants of the plains, as they feel the 
chill in the air, look up and declare there certainly 
is more snow upon the distant peaks and winter 
must be coming unusually early. Of course, they 
see nothing of the giant and his battles with the 
South Wind , as only those who enter Fairyland are 
permitted to view these powerful personages. 
Grown people usually care nothing for the fairies 
and the wonderful secret they reveal. 

The giant, however, does not intend to leave 
his home as yet, but only to tantalize his foe by 
needless alarms. After a few days of lovely sum¬ 
mer weather have lulled all apprehensions, he 
sends forth another warning with the same result, 
but at the third, Auster says to himself: 4 4 That old 
enemy of mine is surely afraid to come down and 
enter my domains. He is simply bragging to keep 
up his courage, so I’ll pay no attention to him.” All 
the people, too, believe their fears are groundless, 
in spite of the occasional puffs of cold air. Every¬ 
thing is progressing so smoothly that the south 
wind takes advantage of the opportunity to run 
over to visit his European possessions. 44 Now is 
my time/’ says the giant, and one lovely moon¬ 
light night he sallies out and down the mountain 
side, past the wall of ice and snow marking the 
boundary of his ow r n domain, and into the forest 
of sturdy pines who oppose their serried ranks to 


— 124 — 


his approach. Vain is their effort, for he hurls an 
avalanche against them and strides through the 
gap in their ranks. Shriveled and blackened herbs 
mark his pathway, but so stealthy is his approach 
that nothing is prepared to resist him. The fishes 
in the little stream winding through the narrow 
canons and shady dells, suddenly find themselves 
imprisoned, and dart downward to the lowest 
depths of water warmed by contact with the 
earth. The deer in the forest shiver and huddle 
together as his breath strikes them, while the 
squirrel and woodpecker congratulate themselves 
on having secured so early their comfortable 
quarters. 

On, on, the giant strides, stopping now and 
then at the scattered farm houses, where he paints 
on the windows, as if in mockery, the scenes of 
summer. He blows through the key holes and 
crevices, until the children nestle closer together 
and arouses the watchful mother who leaves her 
own warm nest to put an extra blanket over the 
little ones. O, ho! O, ho! mutters the giant, as 
he rushes onward, swinging aloft his mighty arms, 
“I am master here now, and this year surely the 
south wind cannot dislodge me.” 

Day after day, week after week passes, by, and 
still his icy hand rules the land. From the Rocky 
mountains to the Atlantic, from the extreme north 
to the southern country his kingdom extends. 
Then comes Auster sweeping back, powerful as 


— 125 — 


ever, and wrests his kingdom from the invader and 
drives him back to his icy fortress, there to remain 
until another fall. The frost giants are too wise 
now to venture on any personal encounter with 
their formidable foe and, though smarting with 
the sense .of defeat, retreat rapidly before him. 


Tales of the Formica. 


Once upon a time when taking a long ramble in 
foreign lands, I came across a queer little town 
inhabited by a race of queer little people. Instead 
of building their homes as we do, they excavate 
numerous rooms under ground, sometimes several 
stories in depth, all connected by long winding 
galleries. Being such little folk, they probably 
felt much safer in such quarters. All the rooms 
were so connected that one might say the whole 
community lived in one house. Strange to say 
there were no contentions among the members, in 
spite of their close quarters. Even the numerous 
babies in the nurseries seemed to get along without 
fretting or quarreling. In fact, better babies 
never existed. Their mothers were the most im¬ 
portant personages in the village; in fact were 
altogether too grand to care for their offspring, 
leaving them entirely to the nurses. The latter, 
however, were as kind and attentive as any mother 
could be, not only feeding, washing and rubbing 
the little ones, but taking them out on the house¬ 
top every bright day, so the light and warmth of 
the sun would make them grow large and strong. 
Best of all, they loved and caressed them, and told 



— 127 — 


them fairy tales, perhaps, when the day was dark 
and stormy. Indeed more tender, faithful nurses 
are never seen. The mothers staid closely indoors 
lounging around, and waited upon by numerous 
devoted servants who seemed to anticipate every 
wish. Another class of servants, looked after the 
defenses of the town, added new rooms when 
increase in the families demanded additional space, 
and still others provided food for the whole village. 
A large standing army was kept for purposes of 
offense and defense. Sometimes, I am sorry to 
say, the soldiers would make raids upon neigh¬ 
boring towns inhabited by a different race, but at 
the time our story begins, peace had reigned for 
some time, and the soldiers had grown so lazy and 
fat that many of the working class were kept busy 
in providing them food, and looking after their 
comforts. They even brushed the fellows’ clothes 
and put them to bed at night. I have also heard 
it stated that some of them were too lazy to take 
meat when offered, and the patient slave would 
put the food in their mouths. I did not see this, 
however, but it was certainly an evident fact that the 
soldiers were an expensive luxury in time of peace. 
This afternoon many of them were lounging on 
the house-top, basking in the sun, and now and 
then sipping a little eau-de-sucre, brought by their 
faithful valets. By-and-by, an old veteran who 
might be pardoned for indolence seeing he had lost 
an arm, presumably in battle, began to relate some 


— 128 — 


incidents in his career, at the request of one of the 
young people who was already in training for a 
military profession. As the old soldier recalled 
the events of the past and his glorious achieve¬ 
ments in battle, fire flashed from his eyes and his 
bent form straightened. Tou may be sure that I 
watched the proceedings, and listened to all that 
was said, being hidden in a clump of bushes near 
by. “ When I was but a youngster like yourself,” 
he began, “ our people were visited by a great 
misfortune ; a sudden and terrible upheaval of the 
surface of the earth, overwhelmed our laborers and 
foragers with destruction as they were on the 
house-top at work or returning from their hunting 
expeditions; all were swept away, together with 
the upper part of our dwelling. The shock was 
felt by all the inhabitants even in the lowest story. 
The nurses hastily gathered the little ones together 
and carried them to the innermost rooms. The 
soldiers trained only to military service were 
helpless and had to rely upon the nurses for food 
and attention, which they kindly gave, although 
heavily taxed with the care of the children. In a 
few days, a scout sent out to reconnoitre returned 
with the information that a new town had sprung 
up not very far away, whose inhabitants were those 
of the small, but hardy black race, called the 
Formica Nigra. These people were splendid 
workers and it was suggested that we make an 
attack upon them for the purpose of procuring 




— 129 — 


their young to rear as slaves. Knowing that this 
race had no soldiers, we expected an easy victory 
and fired with martial zeal, advanced in regular 
order to attack the new colony. The way was not 
very long and we soon surrounded the principal 
entrance to the town, after sending forward a 
herald to demand its surrender. He was igno- 
minously hurled out of the gateway and in an 
instant hundreds of little people with fierce looks 
and bristling weapons opposed our entry. Though 
surprised at this display of courage, we rejoiced in 
meeting foemen worthy of our steel, and in the 
prospect of battle. Brandishing our weapons we 
sprang forward in a body and met them in a hand 
to hand conflict, writhing and twisting our bodies 
in the effort to evade, or to deal a blow. The 
little fellows moved so fast, however, that it was 
difficult to avoid their strokes or to use upon them 
our more powerful weapons. Two or three would 
attack one of our soldiers at a time, and hang on, 
tooth and nail, in spite of kicks and slashes. I, 
myself, suffered in this way and had my arm torn 
off before a fellow soldier came to my relief. In¬ 
deed, if a reserve company of our forces had not 
rushed into the fray at this point, we must have 
retired from the field. As it was, we carried the 
place by storm, driving back its defenders who 
finally turned and fled through a back entrance, 
leaving us masters of the place. We rushed down 
into the lower rooms, seized the children and 


5 


— 130 — 


hurried out, followed by the nurses who preferred 
to live in the home of their enemy rather than 
desert their charge. We were very glad of their 
services and treated them so kindly that they went 
about their daily tasks as cheerfully as if in their 
own homes; while the children grew up into the 
most tireless and obedient slaves, as you see.” 

11 Dear me! I was in a much more glorious 
affair than that,” declared another old soldier with 
an air of superiority, “ a far more brilliant affair,” 
he continued, and being politely urged to give an 
account of it, related the following: “As you all 
know, our people keep a fine drove of cows in our 
underground stables. It cost us a great deal of 
trouble and expense to secure them, and almost as 
much care and attention is lavished upon them as 
upon our babies. None of the neighboring towns 
had as fine a drove, and those at variance with our 
people, often threatened to undermine the stables 
and carry off the herd. One day a slave who was 
some distance from home gathering the scattered 
grain in the fields, observed two or three black 
giants prowling around the outskirts of the town as 
if prying out our defences. He crept up near 
them and hidden in the grass was enabled to hear 
their conversation, from which he learned that they 
intended to surprise us, and while the main army 
engaged our forces in front, a number of picked 
men were to force a way through the side wall 
into the stables. You may be sure there was hur- 


— 131 — 


rying to and fro as the slaves hastily brought 
material to strengthen the walls, especially in the 
region of the stable and nurseries, while the work¬ 
men used the sand and earth to such good purpose 
that we felt sure no ordinary foe could force their 
way through. Sentinels were posted at all the 
entrances and mothers and children were borne to 
the most secure and secret part of our dwelling. 
We were not ready any to soon, for scouts hurried 
in with the report that a long line of the expected 
enemy were already marching toward the place. 
After consultation, it was thought wise for a por¬ 
tion of our forces to sally out aud meet them half 
way. Though apparently surprised at our having 
learned of their intended attack, they engaged us 
in gallant style, and for hours the battle raged 
fiercely. They were heavy, clumsy fellows, how¬ 
ever, lacking our martial skill and training, 
(“ahem! no vanity in that speech,” said I to 
myself,) so we finally had the satisfaction of com¬ 
pelling them to retreat. Many were slain or 
wounded on both sides, however, and our people 
were kept busy caring for the wounded and pro¬ 
viding comforts for those wearied by the fray. 
The whole population of slaves and other workers 
vied with each other in lavishing care and caresses 
upon their brave defenders. Some brushed away 
the dust of battle, others rubbed their tired limbs, 
and still others brought food and drink to refresh 
them. We had saved our home, our little ones 


132 — 


and our property and though the struggle had cost 
us the lives of some, and brought wounds to many 
of our soldiers, the result was worth it all. Ah, 
’tis a grand thing to be a soldier,” he concluded. 

“Humph, you army men think no one not be¬ 
longing to your lazy class, is capable of bravery,” 
growled a sturdy old laborer, who had just laid 
down a heavy load of provisions which he had 
carried from a long distance, up hill and down. 
“We laborers have passed through many dangers 
and endured hardships when procuring food for 
your lordships, but we never yet have shirked our 
task. One time, especially, I remember, when we 
sought to explore that sugar mine and run so many 
risks in trying to reach the treasure. You may re¬ 
member that the mine was on an island in the 
center of a great lake. Across the water stretched 
a single wire, so slight and frail that it swaved in 
every breeze. We knew the contents of the mine 
and had procured supplies from it before a sudden 
flood had filled the low lands and made an island of 
the low sugar hill. At last one of our number 
ventured across on the trembling wire and seeing 
his safe arrival to and from the island, 'many others 
followed his example. But a sudden gust of wind 
tore the wire from its fastenings and hurled several 
of these adventurous ones into the water. None 
of us could swim, so we could aid them only by 
stretching out our hands as far as we could, and 
when they floated within reach, seized and dragged 


— 133 — 


them on shore.” Yes, 1 remember the incidents 
of that day,” interrupted a soldier, and I also re¬ 
member that you were obliged to ask the assis¬ 
tance of some of our number in rescuing the 
drowning. They threw themselves boldly into the 
water and carried the sinking ones to land.” 
“That is true enough,” agreed the former speaker, 
“but they would have perished even then if we had 
not rolled them about, rubbed them and even 
stretched ourselves on their chilled bodies to im¬ 
part to them some of our heat. We will acknowl¬ 
edge your bravery and usefulness in sudden emer¬ 
gencies, but if it were not for us, slaves and 
laborers though we are, you would strave to 
death, or die of your wounds after battle. Per¬ 
haps it is a grand thing to be a soldier and win 
great victories, but to be an all the year around 
worker, earning bread for the family, caring for 
the babies, nursing the sick, and strengthening the 
defenses of our town, is better, I think, than to be 
great and glorious one day in thirty, but lazy and 
helpless the rest of the time. You are very insig¬ 
nificant personages in time of peace and a great 
expense to the State. * Poor babies that you are, 
you must follow meekly the slaves who now come 
to take you in to supper and to bed. You might 
catch cold if allowed to stay out here in the cool air, 
bragging of your past exploits,” Followed by the 
good natured laughter of the crowd of workers now 
returning from their day’s labor, the soldiers 


— 134 — 


meekly obeyed the commands of their slaves and 
went below to prepare for the night. While I 
wended my way home, pondering upon the fact 
that these queer little people had so many traits 
similar to our own. 


Quercus Alba. 


A long time ago a tiny round cradle lay on the 
soft moss under the spreading branches of a great 
tree. This was not like the cradle in which your 
baby brother or sister is rocked to sleep. It had 
no dainty white curtains looped back with pink 
ribbons, neither was there any soft white pillow 
under the tiny baby’s head. He was entirely shut 
in by the walls of his cradle so that not one ray of 
light could enter and disturb his slumber, nor the 
cold winds chill his little body. His food was 
stored all around his bed so that when he awaked 
he would not need to call anyone to bring him his 
dinner, but could begin eating without turning 
over, if he chose. Don’t you think it was very 
nice to have everything so handy? 

By-and-by the sun shone so brightly and the 
warm breeze whispered so sweetly close to his 
cradle that he felt their warmth and sweetness 
through the walls and roused himself from his long 
sleep, for his nap had lasted all winter. 

First, he ate a little of the food his mother had 
prepared for him the summer before, and then he 
tried to push open the door of his cradle with his 
tiny foot, but all in vain. Disappointed, though 



— 136 — 


not discouraged, and feeling quite worn out with 
his exertions, he took a little nap, : nd, after wak¬ 
ing again, ate another hearty meal. While he was 
sleeping a warm shower had softened the ground 
upon which he lay, and had also soaked the cradle 
walls, so that by a vigorous push he managed to 
spring them apart enough to put out his foot, and 
as the warm air and sunshine streamed through 
the narrow opening his little body swelled with de¬ 
light. He pushed harder and harder but could 
not make the opening any larger that day so went 
to sleep again, leaving his little foot out in the 
cold for fear the cradle would close again and 
make him a prisoner. 

During the night came another shower and, 
when he had eaten his breakfast, it was an easy 
matter to enlarge the opening, and digging his 
little foot down into the soft ground he managed 
to work out his head, which so delighted him that 
if he had only known how he would have sung for 
joy. However, having no tongue with which to 
express his joy, he could only toss his head and 
plant his foot still firmer in the soil so as not to be 
blown away by the blustering wind which now 
swept through the forest. He still clung to his 
cradle, however, for the food it contained was 
better for him than any he could yet find for him¬ 
self. You know the baby at home eats the food 
that mamma gives him until he is old enough to 
wait on himself. 


— 137 — 


All day he stood there, enjoying the air and 
sunshine and even when night came and sleep over¬ 
took him he did not return to his cradle, nor lie 
down upon the soft moss, and he slept just as well 
standing on his feet as you do in your little beds. 
That is something you could not do, I think. 

In a few days his little arms, which had been 
folded close to his body, (for, strange to say, he 
could get the food from his cradle without using 
them) grew so long and restless that he opened 
and spread them to the breeze, the dancing, quiv¬ 
ering fingers seizing the air and the sunshine, and 
changing them into food for the body, as the store 
in the cradle pantry was now almost gone. 

The little bare toes, too, were poking about in 
the ground, hunting for something good to eat, 
and when they found it, changed it into rich sweet 
syrup, which was just what our baby liked; and 
when autumn came, it seemed impossible that he 
could ever have lain in that tiny wooden cradle. 

But he is still a baby and we wonder what he 
will do when the cold winter comes, for he evi¬ 
dently means to stay here in the forest, as he has 
not moved from the spot where he first stepped out 
of his cradle. His feet are so deeply and firmly 
fixed in the ground now, that he could not pull 
them out if he tried, and indeed he only tries to 
push them further down. 

By and by the cold winds whistle through the 
woods and Jack Frost skips nimbly about, biting 


— 138 — 


the green leaves and turning them brown, yellow 
and red, and finally pursuades them to bid fare¬ 
well to the kindly branches which have nourished 
and supported them all summer, and they drop 
softly down, covering, like a warm blanket, the 
tiny plants and grasses. 

Our baby Quercus shivers and quakes as the 
icy breath of winter chills his arms and body. But 
his little toes are warm and he thinks of the blue 
bird’s comforting words when he flew southward 
weeks before: ‘‘Go to sleep, little one, and never 
fear the blasts of winter, for the bright warm 
spring will come again.” 

So now he bids good-night to all about him and 
soon is dreaming of the linppy days to come, when 
the birds will again fill the green woods with melo¬ 
dy, never heeding, so deep is his slumber, the 
mantle of snow which sometimes covers him, or 
the glittering coat which the icy rain now and then 
lays upon him. 

At last there comes a warm wind from the 
south which melts the snow and ice, setting free 
the little brooks, which gurgle their thanks and 
chatter their glee as they dance over their pebbly 
beds. The little fishes frolic about in merry games 
of “hide and seek” and “follow your leader;” 
the buds are looking up pleasant quarters and ma¬ 
terial for new homes or are repairing their last 
year’s nests; blue violets and golden buttercups 
push aside their brown blankets and smile “ good 
morning to the glorious sun.” 


— 139 


Baby Quercys awakes with a jump, opens his 
little lingers — astonished to find how many more 
he has than when he went to sleep — to catch the 
air and sunshine, and tries to tell them the joy he 
feels upon aw r aking in the midst of such beauty. 
How glad he is that he succeeded in getting out of 
his cradle last year; how fast his legs and arms 
grow, and how well they keep him supplied with 
food; though he needs so much more now to nour¬ 
ish him than he did before. 

He stretches himself up and pushes his feet 
down, just as your baby does when he awakes from 
sleep, and grows with all his might. 

But the wheat and the corn in the fields near 
by grow faster than he does, try as hard as he can. 
When the summer is gone, however, and autumn 
comes, their life is ended, for he sees them bow 
down before the reaper who binds them into bun- 
les and carries them to the barn where the precious 
grains of wheat and corn are carefully gathered 
and treasured to serve as food for many, many 
hungry little children; but Quercus has not yet 
passed his babyhood. » 

Year after year comes and goes, and still his 
growth continues; his arms are larger and more 
numerous, and his thousands of lingers are kept so 
busy that they are seldom still. All through the 
summer weather the birds and squirrels frolic about 
him and nestle in his arms, and the soft breezes 
whisper in his ears the most enchanting tales of 


— 140 — 


the lands over which they have ^>me, and bring 
him sweet perfumes from the flower-decked mead¬ 
ows. The rain and the hail pelt him, but he only 
shakes off their tiny balls of water and ice and 
seems to laugh at their rough play. 

They serve to wash his face and quench his 
thirst, and he receives these favors with thanks, 
never grumbling at the manner of giving. When 
the clouds are gone and the bright, hot sunshine 
would drink up the refreshing drops which have 
fallen upon the grateful flowers at his feet, he 
shades them with his arms and broad body. 

Sometimes the hurricane comes with a rush and 
wrestles with him trying, apparently, to dash him 
to the ground and break him in pieces, but all in 
vain, for Quercus only bows and bends and, after 
the struggle, rises straighter and stronger than 
before. 

Many a cold winter passes, but Jack Frost can 
not reach his warm feet, and every spring finds 
him awaking to new life and strength, ready to af¬ 
ford shelter and protection to many small friends. 

You* would not know him now as the baby 
Quercus Alba. Three or four of you can hardly 
reach around his body and his arms could encircle 
you all, and he is as tall as most houses are high. 

The little boy who first discovered him pushing 
out of his cradle is now an old man with snow-white 
hair and trembling limbs, and his grandchildren 
often play in the forest and lean their tired heads 


141 — 


upon his body, but Quercus (the great oak tree) is 
still a youth, and many, many years will pass away 
before he will become too feeble to withstand the 
fury of the storm and the bitter cold of winter. 


Story of Seven Little Peas. 


A NEW VERSION OF AN OLD STORY. 


Once upon a time seven little peas lived in a 
little green house, through whose Trails shone a 
faint light, like the shimmer of moonlight on green 
sea water. The seven little peas wore pale green 
dresses and sat on tiny green stools, and the silken 
draperies of their house were also green. As the 
peas had never seen anything else they thought all 
the world must be green. By-and-by their dresses 
and stools began to turn yellow, and their house 
also turned yellow; so they said to each other: 
“All the world is turning yellow. ” 

One day a little boy came into the garden and 
espied the ripe pod. “O, ho! these peas are just 
what I want to use in my pea-shooter,” he said, 
and immediately cracked open the pod. Out 
rolled the little yellow balls, and he slipped them 
into his pocket for future use. 

Presently, however, he put one pea into his 
pea-shooter. “Dear me! I must be going clear 
up to the sun,” said the little pea proudly, as he 
shot into the air, but he rose no higher than the 




— 143 — 


house roof, down whose steep side he rolled into 
the gutter pipe, lying there among dead leaves, 
etc., until a heavy rain washed him down to the 
ground to be gobbled up by a hungry hen. The 
second pea said: “ I am going to visit the stars,” 
but he only sailed over the fence into the dust of 
the street. The third, fourth and fifth pea dropped 
from the boy’s hand into a brush heap, where they 
were lost to view, and could see nothing of the 
strange world into which they had been so suddenly 
ushered. “Dear, dear,” they grumbled, “here 
we are, lower down than before, and no prospect 
of ever going away from this stupid old garden.” 
I do not wonder at their discontent, for it was 
rather a dismal place and hardly worthy of the 
name of garden. Just a few feet of ground in a 
crowded part of the city, where plants had a 
hard struggle for existence. Their leaves being 
often covered with dust and cinders, made it diffi¬ 
cult for them to breathe, as most of the tiny pores 
were stopped up. ’Twould be as easy for you to 
breathe with your head wrapped up in a blanket. 
Then the air itself was so foul with smoke and 
gases from garbage that it did not do them very 
much good when they could breathe. However, 
they did their very best, and the mamma vine which 
had borne these little peas was quite proud of her 
success in filling out one pod with seven round, fat 
seeds. The one who planted the garden had grown 
discouraged, and only now and then made any effort 


— 144 — 


to assist the few plants in their struggle. Per¬ 
haps, the peas dropped in the brush pile will 
sprout and grow into sturdy vines some day, 
but we must leave them now, and see what became 
of the others. 

Across the way was a large house, in which 
lived many poor families, and in one of the attic 
rooms, facing the street, dwelt a mother and 
daughter. The woman’s work took her away from 
home much of the day, and her little girl was 
often very lonesome, especially as she had been 
ill for many weeks and was not yet able to sit up 
long at a time, much less to walk across the room. 
Every morning the mother would draw the little 
cot close to the window, place the bread and milk 
for her dinner on a chair near by and with a kiss 
leave her to watch the bit of blue sky, across 
w r hich the summer clouds went sailing like white 
winged ships on the sea. The saucy sparrows 
flitted about, filling the air with their noisy chirp¬ 
ing. She often scattered crumbs on the sill of the 
open window and rejoiced to see how readily they 
accepted her hospitality. English sparrows, you 
know, never refuse anything to eat. “But what 
has all this to do with the peas?” you ask. Well, 
wait a little and you will see. 

The sixth and seventh peas left the pea-shooter 
with a great bound, and, perhaps because they 
were smaller and lighter than their fellows, ascen¬ 
ded so high that they finally landed on a little pile 


— 145 


of dirt just under the sick child’s window. A 
shower had moistened the dust blown hither by the 
wind so the peas found a nice little bed already 
prepared for them. Said one to the other “what 
shall we do now?” let us stick out our little feet 
and get a firm hold here or the next high wind may 
sweep us away.” “ For my part I am tired of such 
high traveling, and my head is still dizzy,” was the 
answer. So they pushed out their feet, dug their 
toes into the cracks of the shingles, and thus held 
on for dear life, while they drew their heads out of 
the seed-leaves, and lengthened their stems, de¬ 
lighted to feel this power of growth within them. 
How much better this was, than sitting so quietly 
in their little home. In a few days, however, the 
sun dried out the handful of earth in which they 
grew, and their heads began to droop. But before 
it was too late, the mother happened to look down 
upon these bits of green, as she leaned from the 
window to breathe the fresh air. Surprised to see 
anything growing under such difficulties, and 
noticing their need she hastened to give them a 
drink and to tell her daughter of these courageous 
little plants. The next day she carried up a small 
box of earth from the court yard and transplanted 
the peas to this more abundant soil, to which they 
took kindly and grew rapidly. Day after day they 
climbed higher and higher by means of the strings 
prepared for them, and in time, greenish white 
butterfly blossoms danced gaily and nodded to the 


— 146 — 


pale child as the wind blew the vines back and 
forth. She was not as pale as formerly, however, 
for watching and caring for these ventursome peas, 
had done her so much good that she could walk 
around the room, and even help her mother a 
little in keeping things neat and orderly. 

Now what peas of all the seven did the most 
good? 


The First Thanksgiving. 


My dear little children, would you like to hear 
a story of the First Thanksgiving day? “Yes, in¬ 
deed,” your eyes say before your lips have time to 
form the words. 

Well, once upon a time, a long while ago, this 
country which we call the United States of America, 
was inhabited by wandering and scattered tribes 
of Indians. Their houses, made of sticks covered 
with brush or the skins of animals, are called 
wigwams, and whenever the Indians cannot find 
enough fish or other animals for food, or their corn 
crop has failed, they tie up their mats and skins 
and move away to some other part of the country; 
hence the reason they are called wandering tribes. 
Any person coming f om a thickly settled country 
dotted over with towns and villages would infer 
that he had discovered a land unknown to anyone 
else, and think, of course, that he and his friends 
had a right to take any part they chose for their 
own home. This country is so vast in extent, that 
even if they did find a few Indians, they might 
think there was land enough for both the natives 
and themselves. 



— 148 — 


In fact, some people did come over from Eng¬ 
land and sailed up and down the eastern coast. 
After landing at a few points, they went home and 
reported their discovery of a vast and productive 
country. Some of those who listened to the won¬ 
derful tales they told, thought it would be a great 
and noble thing to build up a God-fearing nation 
in the new country, and to teach the poor Indians 
about Our Heavenly Father. One bright day in 
early autumn, two little ships called the Ma}'-flower 
and the Speedwell started from England with a 
little company of men and women and a few 
children, all feeling sad at leaving their old home 
but hopeful of their future in this strange land, 
where they would serve God and enjoy freedom 
from oppressive laws. Among this brave company, 
was a bright little girl named Hope, who was 
usually as gay and happy as a bird, but now her 
eyes were red with weeping as she bade good bye 
to the land and friends she was leaving. To be 
sure papa and mamma were with her, but how sad it 
was to leave dear grandmamma and little cousins, 
feeling that she might never see them again. It 
was not as easy to go to Europe in those days as it 
is now; the trip was long and tedious for there 
were no steamboats until very many years after. 
Sometimes their ittle vessels were tossed about by 
strong winds and almost swamped bv heavy waves. 
The Speedwell was not strong enough to resist the 
force of wind and wave, so, soon after they 


— 149 — 


started, her passengers were transferred to the 
Ma3^ilower. Little Hope watched them as they 
came on board, hoping to find a few playmates 
among the new-comers, for she was the only little 
girl in the 'Mayflower’s company. To be sure, 
there were three or four boys, but they were too 
old to play with a little tot of five. At last she 
spied a golden-haired, blue-eyed baby of three 
years carried in her father’s arms, gazing with 
curiosity and yet with a funny air of babyish dig¬ 
nity, upon the strangers around her. On catching 
sight of Hope her face dimpled into smiles, and 
she was soon playing peek-a-boo and other baby 
games with her new friend. Fortunately, this day 
was bright and pleasant, so most of the passengers 
could stay on deck, but for many succeeding days 
the weather was so cold and stormy that it was 
very dreary in the crowded cabin. The older 
people looked grave and troubled, and often won¬ 
dered if they had been wise in giving up their 
homes in the old country and venturing on so dan¬ 
gerous an enterprise, as this perilous journey to 
an unknown land. 

Poor little Hope was so sea-sick during the 
stormy weather that she could not think of any¬ 
thing ; even grandmamma and the dear cousins were 
but hazy memories. Her baby playmate, however, 
came in to see her every day and when the storm 
was over, when the waves had subsided to gentle 
swells which rocked the ship like a cradle, and the 


sunlight chased away the storm clouds, Hope’s 
mamma wrapped her in shawls and carried her up on 
deck. O, how glad she was to get out of that close 
little berth, which was like a shelf in the cupboard 
where she had to be tied in most of the time to 
keep from rolling out on the floor! How beautiful 
the blue sky with the white clouds floating by, and 
the green sea-water sparkling in the sunshine! She 
laughed and clapped her hands and was eager to 
get up and have a merry romp with Faith who was 
so happy in seeing her dear playmate well again. 
Hope found that her little legs would wobble and 
double up in such ridiculous fashion that a romp 
was out of the question, so she was obliged to con¬ 
tent herself with very quiet games. 

The next day was cold, but all the people were 
happier than at any time during the voyage, for 
the captain assured them that what seemed to be a 
low-lying cloud bank in the west was the coast of 
the New World. They had almost given up the 
hope of ever seeing the promised land, but God 
had watched over them and brought them in safety 
to the land they sought. Slowly, very slowly, as 
it seemed, the cloud bank resolved itself into a 
“ rock-bound coast,” upon which they could see 
the waves breaking into foam. Gradually the 
distant trees stood out against the sky, the white 
sand on the coast sparkled in the sunshine, and 
finally the captain said the ship could go no 
further without danger of striking on the rocks un¬ 
der the w r ater. 


— 151 — 


A small boat was let down from the side of the 
ship, and a few of the passengers were rowed to 
the shore. Where they landed a broad rock pro¬ 
jected into the water and furnished a stepping 
stone to those who left the boat. Hope, clinging 
to her father’s hand, gazed with childish curiosity 
at the strange country, barren of any signs of 
habitation, then turned to her mamma and said: 
“Where are we going to sleep, mamma?” “We 
shall have to live in the ship for a few days, dear, 
until papa can build us a house,” was her reply. 
Hope sighed to think she would have to sleep 
again on that little shelf in the stuffy cabin, but 
comforted herself with the thought it would not be 
for long. The air was cold and a light snow was 
falling, for it was late in November, and think how 
unpleasant it must have been to wait for houses to 
be built, with winter at hand. “ Hurry, hurry,” 
said the snowflakes, “ or we shall have to cover 
you with a white blanket, as we do the flowers.” 
So the men opened their tool chests, took out their 
axes and saws, and hurrying to the woods near by, 
began felling the trees and trimming off the 
branches. As fast as the logs were ready they 
began building the houses, stuffing the cracks 
between with wet clay and dried leaves. For the 
floors they simply smoothed off the ground and 
made it as hard as possible. It was several days 
before these rude houses were finished, and even 
then there were not enough for all; so two or three 
families lived together in each house. 


— 152 — 



When little Hope first entered her new home, 
she was so busy looking around the curious place, 
that she could not spend any time talking. The 
rough logs, the earthen floor, the open fire place 
with a great flat stone for a hearth, the rude bed¬ 
stead made like a box standing on short stout 
sticks driven into the ground, attracted especial 
attention. She was used to the great fireplace 
with its blazing logs, over which was suspended an 
iron kettle; but there were no pictured tiles on the 
inside of the fireplace and no mantel and cupboard 
above, as at Grandmamma’s. The windows were 
few and very small, with no glass panes (perhaps 
glazed paper instead). 

There were only one or two chairs in the sit¬ 
ting room and one in each bedroom. One table, 
two boxes used as seats, in which they had brought 
clothing, a precious clock which stood in one cor¬ 
ner, reaching from floor to ceiling, another box in 
which shelves had been fitted to serve as a cup¬ 
board, comprised the rest of the furniture. Of 
course, there was no cookstove, and no one would 
have known howto use it, if there had been, for in 
those days all the cooking was done in the fire 
place. When you go home ask mama to tell you 
how her grandma's cooking was done, and you will 
understand how the Puritan mamas managed. Just 
as Hope had completed her tour of investigation, 
Faith arrived with her mama and papa, and how 
delighted the little friends were to find that the two 
families were to be together during the winter. 


— 153 — 


By-and-by, when the north wind blew in fierce 
gusts ; when the snow filled the street, blocked up 
the doors and sifted through the cracks; when 
fears of famine troubled the hearts of the older 
people so that they dared not eat enough food for 
fear the children would suffer from hunger—then 
Faith and Hope were the light and joy of the 
house. They were so sweet, gentle and happy 
that they made others happy and hopeful in their 
presence. Then when Hope’s mamma was ill so 
long, how her little girl would delight in brushing 
her hair and in getting her a drink of cool water. 
How she loved to pat her mamma’s cheek, tell 
funny little stories to make her laugh, lavish 
caresses upon her, and every day ask the dear 
Father in Heaven, to make her well again. Little 
Faith, too, did her share, for every morning she 
would come in softly and whisper to Hope, “How 
is oor mamma,” or, “ I wants to help oo.” Of 
course the mamma got well; liow could she help it 
with two such loving little nurses. 

One day, soon after the people were settled in 
their new homes, a tall Indian walked into the vil¬ 
lage and greeted all he met with the remark, 
“ Good day,” which was nearly all the English he 
knew. You can guess how surprised all were to 
see him, and how they gathered around, the chil¬ 
dren, especially, gazing with curious eyes upon his 
dark face, long straight black hair and top knot of 
long plumes. He had a mantle of deer skin over 


— 154 — 


liis shoulders and trousers, as we might call them, 
of the same, but chest and arms were bare. Faith 
wondered if he were not cold, as she, clinging to 
her father’s coat, peeped out from behind him at the 
stranger. When he caught sight of her he put out 
his hand as if inviting her to approach. She 
shrank back at first but his bright eyes smiled so 
kindly on her that she soon walked a little nearer 
and finally, almost before she knew it, was in his 
arms. She patted his cheeks, pulled the feathers 
in his hair, said “ how do oo do,” asked if he had 
any “ ’ittle dirl,” and “where does oo live?” to 
all of which questions he only shook his head and 
smiled. The few English words he had picked up 
from some sailors who once visited the coast, were 
insufficient to permit of any continued conversa¬ 
tion. He proved to be a good and useful friend to 
the white people; for example, when the food of 
the colony was nearly gone, and when so many 
were ill that none could hunt or fish, this good 
Indian showed them where his people had stored 
a quantity of corn the year before, and thus fur¬ 
nished the colonists food for the time of need, 
and seed for planting. Latter, when he had 
learned enough English to make himself under¬ 
stood, he told them that very many of his people 
had died of a fever and the rest had moved away, 
leaving this store of corn behind. 

When this long, dreary winter had passed 
away, when the grass covered plain and hillside 


and the trees had donned their delicate spring 
robes, Saraoset showed the English how to plant 
the corn, for the grain was new to them. It was 
not known in the Old Country, but cultivated and 
highly prized by the Indians, hence the origin of 
the name of Indian corn. So many of the people 
were weakened by illness that the children’s ser¬ 
vices were needed in planting the grain, and even 
little Hope dropped a few kernels in the little nests 
prepared for them. In the soft, warm breeze of 
spring, the hot sunshine and welcome showers of 
the long summer, the corn grew and grew until 
higher than a man’s head, and yielded a great crop 
of corn when ready for the harvest. 

The wild berries, plums and grapes ripened in 
turn, and in the gardens so faithfully tended 
gleamed great, round, yellow pumpkins, ready to 
be gathered and made into pies. So glad and 
thankful were the people for the bountiful harvest 
and restoration to health that they determined to 
set apart a day in November as the day of Thanks¬ 
giving to God. The}’ also made it a feast day and 
the tables were loaded with plenty of good food. 
Not only were there pumpkin pies baked golden 
brown, but even roasted turkeys and geese, which 
the hunters caught in the woods. They had fine 
fish, also, found in the bay, brought by Samoset 
and his friends, who were invited guests to the feast. 
But what made this a day of rejoicing to Hope and 
her mamma, was the company of dear grandma and 


— 156 — 




two little orphan cousins who had arrived a day or 
two before on the first vessel that had come from 
their old home since they landed. 

I snould like to tell you how delighted and ex¬ 
cited all the people were when the ship came into 
harbor bearing these dear friends to share their 
joys and sorrows. I should like to draw you a 
picture of the meeting between little Hope and her 
grandmother, but it is late now, and each child 
who has a grandmamma knows how delightful the 
meeting was. 

And now you understand why we have Thanks¬ 
giving day every year in November ; a day in which 
we count over the year’s blessings, recall the trials 
of our ancestors, and try to thank God by making 
others happier. 































































































































































































































































































•• ■*** J ■'° *** ■■-- sj.r, fv ^, * 

r. , J ^ *nvm,™»"- >tXf* i»fek*3P^, -f 


V >AT 



»*T? Cr ■*C i 


a* 5 i 2 jr^’' 

w* ^.i. ^ 


w »i 




i ^ - 


*•>££> . >. %i^jj- v ^o* %i^ 

w «s-«‘V-v o^ifev ^^ r'' ***-* 

■ #h ’ '&?s%c iK _<&* Kf ^ ^ -*te* 3 


stf/S 5 V 

^J 3 sa 





** ^ jfft 

l^h c^ 


r.* 



*ns. 




»ii^ 

F 



<V'-sjs^ j*' •r i -, •’^ssr s w, •? 
j^kSu«y^V$P ,«i&M Wing# #&&■« -? 

_*Ji£v- A . ^ <1 -siiSEf ✓* » .» \ 4 ** ,,». .k N _!k * 


J' 



***/' 







* -- r** *$ - : 




* 3 br 






r *■* ^ 


ifci 


•N» 




; ^ 


&? 3 jenpk 

Gf. •>• ;. 


&#» 4 ^/*6 


> **J 






_.,iv** «*■ 


> -* 


.*%' /i 


C-.i 

v‘ 





^ r^r 





A yz?. '4 WjM? 


*r 


Nlf 


. ^ W&r&~ J ^i» 

5^v *%,' k&ilfc >» - *7 

’Sp -»fe, $ wH,tjp 

^ IJ ^ '\ x A* V ^ 

§§* 31 


Vw 




^ s •nlr cpL 

*-* > c* *?47>T7 •'^5^ 

•FS&a > ‘ '*£ < $i: 


V >« 







A 



nr ^,4 j .7>- 

■$ v^3i7 v 

\ XT*» "W h 





m *»sj?$b 

&*.*&* * 


fe>**rl 3 P 


n a_ 



i n* 




X 

ext 



